


Courage and Kindness

by BloodOnUrsuline



Category: Cinderella (2015), Disney - Fandom, Disney Princesses
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Movie Spoilers, Sexual Content, Spoilers, Sweetness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-18 03:32:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 47,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3554474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodOnUrsuline/pseuds/BloodOnUrsuline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of interconnected scenes taking place after the King finds the "forgetful girl always losing her shoe". Post-Cinderella 2015. Spoilers for the film.</p><p>Rating change for sexual content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Departure

The King (Kit, he insisted. “You must call me Kit.”) waved off the steed he rode from earlier but not the King’s Guard cloak that hid his appearance so well. Though summer only just began to fade into autumn, cooler winds swept up from the coast and through the lush lands frequently. And despite her steady grip on his hand, Kit still felt the soft shudder pass through Ella as the wind blew. Relinquishing his grasp of her hand for a moment, he accepted the garment from the Captain before giving it a quick shake and settling it about her small shoulders.

It may have been a courtesy that any properly raised gentleman provided to a female companion but the flush of pale pink up Ella’s cheeks and flash of gratitude in her pale eyes made him both warm with pleasure to provide her with such and a touch of sadness. The happiness and joy behind her softly spoken thanks told him so many things but also raised many questions. At their first meeting, she gave the most vague of details and closed up when he asked about her treatment.

_How badly has she been treated?_

His gaze passed briefly to the doors of the manse behind them. Just beyond the bright light of the day, in the dark of the entry hall, Lady Tremaine still rested on the step, head pressed against the stairwell wall. The jewel tone of her gown only made the pallor of her face more pronounced. Her two curly haired daughters stood as awkward as the screaming colors of their gowns nearby in dead silence. From what he heard when they tried on the shoe, and the brief twirl with them about the dance floor, Kit doubted they ever spent a waking moment without words being exchanged or thrown about. He looked to his Captain with questioning eyes and received a soft nod of acknowledgement.

More to the story, possibly answers, but not at this time.

No, at this time, he found the mysterious lady from the forest; the one who danced like flowers upon water in a dress that resembled a watercolor painting. And his priority now lay in returning to the palace with her and setting plans in motion for their wedding.

A small cloud of dust heralded the arrival of the Royal coach. Carved with intricate scrolls and bearing the Royal Seal upon the door, the blue and yellow vehicle arrived behind a team of 4 black stallions also adorned in the colors. Ella gasped and smiled, “Oh, how beautiful!”. As the horses came to a stop, she reached out and softly pet the nuzzle of the nearest. The horse knickered quietly at the touch but appeared to almost lean into it making the young woman laugh sweetly.

Kit felt his own smile grow into a grin. _She is made of magic, I swear it._ He guided her to the carriage, helping her to sit as she cradled the glass slipper in her hands. “Forgive me, a moment, my lady?” he asked; Ella nodded and settled back into the cushioned interior. Stepping aside, Kit motioned to the Captain as they stepped a few paces from the carriage. “The Arch Duke is to be escorted to his home under strict guard and kept there until further notice.” The Duke, whom lingered near the doorway, appeared to initially protest but stopped when two guards blocked his first steps. “And the same for the Lady Tremaine and her daughters. None are to be allowed to leave unless I give the command.”

“Yes, your highness,” the Captain intoned before giving several short commands. The Arch Duke followed the guard to his horse, making sure keep his head down as he passed the open carriage door. As Kit turned away, the Captain placed a hand on his shoulder. “I do take back what I said, your highness.”

“What was that?”

“I don’t want to know if the young lady has any sisters,” he jested in his deep baritone. Kit chuckled while making sure himself not to look up at the two women now standing at their front door. Even his own life of courtly behavior would not prevent him from bursting into laughter.

Stepping up and into the carriage, he quickly noted that Ella settled to the far side of the forward facing bench. The cloak now settled across her front like a blanket. Her beatific smile brightened the dimness of the carriage and set him at ease. “May I be so bold as to request permission to sit next to you, my lady? Though propriety would have me sit across from you.”

Ella gave a soft laugh, “I will be as bold to yes as you are to ask.”

With that, he took the space next to her and rapped his knuckles on the ceiling of the carriage. The whistle of the coachman and soft whip of the reigns gave a short warning before the coach jostled and set into motion. Ella leaned into his side and watched as her home passed, a distant and sad look upon her face for a moment before the smile returned as Kit wrapped an arm about her shoulders. He let his boldness rule and kissed her temple. “It will not be the last you see of it,” he whispered. “I promise you that.”

“Then you have you settled my worried heart,” she murmured back as she relaxed further against him. “And now I can begin the next chapter of my life with you.”


	2. Worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kit realizes the worries of a kingdom are greatly different from the worries of love. And finds a way to ease both of their minds.

Worrying for a kingdom is one thing. Entirely an animal, or rather a zoo of animals, set apart from all else. Kit knew these worries well; his father made sure his education included much time in council and review even as a child. As King, no night sleep went on without at least 10 worries on your mind and no dawn came soon enough to start the business of the day. Worry is a King’s, and Prince’s, constant companion.  
  
Worrying for Ella, however, was new.  
  
So new that initially he wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.  
  
The royal household knew what to worry about for their future Queen.  
  
First, the necessities. In preparation for the mystery maidne (or potentially a very real Princess), the apartments adjacent to the King’s suite underwent a total cleaning - airing, dusting, cleaned from top to bottom. New drapery and materials; old paints replaced with new ones; fresh air into stagnant chambers. Until their wedding a month from now, these rooms now belonged to Ella. This also included handmaidens, ladies in waiting, servants, and guards to provide her with whatever she needed. The royal seamstress came swiftly to the apartments and prepared to create a wardrobe fit for the future Queen of their country. A physician scurried along to evaluate her health and offer any guidance to keep her at her best.  
  
Second, the requirements. Tutors for etiquette, history of the kingdom, diplomacy, royal responsibilities and customs. A dance instructor and music teacher. A horseman and groomsman to go with the steed of Ella’s choosing along with a riding instructor (Kit knew she could ride but side-saddle was apparently uncomfortable and tricky to master). A new head of the Royal household to manage the Queen’s staff. The royal jeweler needed to fit and set the royal jewels into adornments and crowns for her.  
  
Third, the extended. Her own small staff of gardeners and arborists to help mold and shape the Queen’s private gardens as well as the larger palace areas. Artists on hand to instruct her if she desired. Linguists and language tutors for which ever languages she wanted to know. A small contingent of physicians and midwives for the expected future heirs of their majesties.   
  
Everything she could want or desire, instantly available at her fingertips.  
  
Yet Kit realized that all of this, while required as part of royal life, filled very little of what she truly needed. They spoke briefly in the carriage of what transpired since their first meeting including how she came to be deep in the wood during a royal stag hunt. Ella picked around directly stating the extend of her mistreatment by her stepmother and stepsisters but the lack of words spoke volumes. How she stuttered over words and avoided his eyes; the slight tremor of her hands as she pulled the cloak tighter about her shoulders.   
  
Thin shoulders with soft but noticeable edges. Small hands with thin fingers, calloused and dry. A dress that, despite the already small size, hung loose around the waist and hips. Faint dark circles beneath her eyes that belied sleepless nights and long days. The way she relaxed so bonelessly showed a type of exhaustion he only knew in soldiers long fighting at the battlefront. If one judged by her build, a strong wind would be worrisome for fear of knocking her over.  
  
 _Did she ever eat or even sleep? How much was required of her every day? How did they turn her into a servant in her own home?_  
  
Hours later, he barely understood where to even begin addressing the wrongs done to Ella. Indeed, he barely had time. After arriving, he escorted her through the palace, keeping her attention directed towards himself as courtiers gaped and stared at the young woman with hair bound up in a dusty scarf and face covered in soot. She sweetly smiled and greeted all those that she saw as they passed by. Lords and Ladies barely dropped into bows before their monarch disappeared down the long hall. Once they entered the privacy of her temporary quarters, Ella barely gasped at the site of the beautiful pale blue walls and sumptuous decor before two handmaidens whisked her into the washroom. He managed to kiss her hand once more and promised to see her shortly before she disappeared, yet again, from his sight.   
  
Shortly turned into a few hours as the King returned to address several government concerns and issues.  He gladly put his signature and seal upon announcement regarding the discovery of the mystery maiden and the proclamation of Ella as his bride and future Queen. The Lords present at the very brief Council meeting tittered with questions regarding her family, history, all of the details of her person they felt entitled to know.

  
 “My good Lords, all will be known in time. The Lady Ella has only just arrived and the dust has yet settled on the road from her travels,” the King announced with his most charming smile. He gestured towards the window where the sun slowly began to dip towards the horizon. “A night and a day, my Lords. Give time to the lady whose life is changed beyond what most would ever experience. Imagine how she feels now, having come from her quiet life into the Royal court. Surely your Lordships remember your first presentations at court! I ask for a night and a day for the lady,” he requested in a kind but firm voice. The Council acquiesced in low tones, heads slightly lowered as they recalled their own nervous early days at court, much to Kit’s delight. “Then I bid my Lords farewell for this evening.”  
  
They filed out with a small amount of grumbling and past the Captain of the Guard who made ever valiant attempt to not burst into laughter. Once the door closed, a brief moment passed before they both began to laugh. “I could live a hundred years and never see so many Lords so humbled. Very good, your highness. I dare say your father would be proud,” the Captain crowed, clapping the King on his shoulder. “Though more so, I believe the Lady Ella will be grateful for the time as well.”  
  
“She deserves it. When she met her handmaidens, she appeared almost embarrassed and told me quietly that she did not wish to bother them with helping her to dress,” Kit remembered, his words slowing as he finished them.  
  
The Captain quirked an eyebrow at him, “Your highness?”  
  
Kit gazed off distantly at the setting sun before responding. “I want a full investigation regarding the delay in Ella coming forward. She offered not a single objection to trying on her slipper or coming with me. Something was done to purposely prevent her from doing so. I also highly suspect that she is not a mere servant in a household filled with terrible women.”  
  
“The Lady Tremaine stated she was the Lady’s mother and the two younger women called her ‘stepsister’,” the Captain stated. “There were no men of the home at the time but they could have been hiding them in the larder for all we know.” The corner of Kit’s mouth quirked at the jab but his face remained grave. The Captain continued, “I will personally look into the matter immediately. The estate is old and would have rights of property detailed. I will also speak with those whom associate with the Lady while in town. Given her kindness and demeanor, someone will know of her.”  
  
“I also want to know exactly what happened to her,” Kit responded with a nod before turning his gaze to his friend and guard. “She is too small, too frail of body to have been treated with any kindness or fairness. I would see justice done for her.” The Captain bowed and left to begin his investigation.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My intent is to allow Kit and Ella to continue in that type of fairy tale way of being hopeful and chivalrous. So at times, it might come off a bit fantastical. It's my childhood calling with iron-willed maidens standing up for themselves and facing a dragon while accepting help from a nearby prince who happens to the think the world of her. Let me live in my fantasy.


	3. Worth the Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mice with cobbler's skills and a woman that speaks to them. Kit realizes that what ever magic surrounds his future bride, he would have Ella no other way.

Kit accepted the goblet of wine as he sank into the plush chaise. He several long sips off the glass before letting a small sigh of relief escape him. The nearby clock chimed five times and he forced himself not to stare at the closed door or pace the room with impatience. The last he saw of Ella included several handmaidens dashing about as they led her away into the vast washroom of her suite. More than four hours ago.   
  
He drew several deep, calming breaths and reminded himself that this third disappearance occurred into a part of the castle, not a carriage fleeing the palace grounds. He then reviewed the room with a sweeping gaze, noting the small things now in place at his request. Full bouquets of gently scented flowers filled the crystal and porcelain vases. The old paintings of men on horseback and scenes of triumphant battle now replaced with resplendent landscapes and bright floral scenes filled with kindly animals and sweet birds.  
  
With impatience weighing down with needle-like pricks, Kit gave into his urge and took a turn of the room. Running his fingers along the edges of the tables and window sills, he walked towards the large cathedral window and took in the view out onto palace gardens. The setting sun turned the orchards from bright greens into lush dark pools dotted with pale fruits, the flowering walls speckled with pale flowers that released their soft perfume onto the late summer evening. Lords and Ladies taking strolls along the avenues as servants pass along the rows to light the torches. He smiled to himself as he thought upon future walks he would take with Ella at his side.   
  
In the midst of these pleasant musings, a faint squeaking noise reached his ears along with scratching patter of small feet. Looking down, he witnessed a flash of color that looked like a silk ribbon moving across the floor and under a nearby desk. Placing his glass down, Kit knelt down and gaped at what he beheld: four mice, three small and one rather large, weaving the trailing silk into one of the Ella’s old shoes. One held a small curved needle and appeared to be stitching up a loosened piece of fabric. A scrap of cloth sat between the shoes, covered in a thick layer of soil and soot; the front of her shoes appeared cleaner than the back.  
  
He gave a laughing breath and the mice all startled with resounding squeaks. They scattered around and began to run into hiding. “No! No no no! Wait!,” Kit found himself saying while simultaneously thinking, _I am talking to mice. How and why am I talking to mice?_

  
The large mouse stopped as the others continued to run, its tiny head cocked to the side as his whiskers twitched and shivered. “I’m not--I’m not going to...harm you...” Kit trailed, feeling more ridiculous by the moment. He extended his ungloved hand to the mouse slowly and felt a small relief as the creature came forward towards him. A few pitter paces and stops and he nearly touched the creature’s nose when the mouse cocked his head again and darted past him. Kit turned as a gentle laugh broke the patient silence and witnessed a flutter of pale pink as Ella knelt down to the floor. The mouse squeaked and squealed happily as it ran into her open hand.   
  
“Did you catch a ride with us on the carriage?” she asked of the mouse. To Kit’s ongoing surprise, the mouse squeaked several times in rapid succession and Ella nodded with a soft smile. “I would have missed you all as well. I’m glad you came!” Her gaze adjusted up and met Kit’s astonished expression. She rose up as he did and came over slowly, rubbing the back of her neck in a nervous fashion. “I suppose I never told you how...”  
  
“You speak to animals?” he finished with a laugh. “No, but if anything...you do carry an air of magic about you.” Kit felt himself getting lost in her pale eyes and beautiful smile so he stepped forward and nodded to the mouse now resting calmly in her open palm. “Does he--she? Have a name?”  
  
“Yes! His name is Gus Gus,” she replied with a happy tone. She nodded and walked over to the table just behind Kit, “And they are Jacqueline, Marius, and Amelia.” He turned to see the three mice that ran now up on the desk, squeaking in happiness as Ella approached. Gus ran off her hand and joined them. “They are the most loyal of friends and my companions these many years.”  
  
“And talented as well,” Kit complimented as he retrieved the mostly mended shoe. “It appears I interrupted them as they worked to restore your slippers. Hopefully with a ribbon to tie them so you won’t worry about losing another.” Ella touched the shoe and gave what he could describe as a coo of appreciation; it was as light as sound doves made.   
  
“They were a gift from my father and...I have worn them for so long,” she responded with distance in her voice. She turned a grateful smile to her small friends, “Thank you for your kindness. I should not like to lose them as easily as my glass slipper. But then,” she turned to Kit with a mischievous smile, “How will you find me in the vast palace unless I leave a shoe to find me?”  
  
She watched his expression shift into something unknown as he closed the distance between them. Ella found herself slowly but surely in Kit’s embrace, the warmth of his body pressed against her. Even with the many layers of silks and cloth that made up her gown, she felt the increased temperature and the resulting flush of her shoulders, neck, and face. The tips of their noses touched as he brushed his lips upon her own. Ella felt her breathing shallow and heart stutter. Her only kisses came on hands, cheeks and foreheads, bestowed by her mother, father, and some friends.   
  
_This kiss_ , she heard a happy voice say within her mind, _this will be my first kiss_. And from our true love. _This was worth all of the wait_. She leaned in and let her heart soar.  
  


* * *

 

When last they stood this close, the Tremaine sisters burst into the room in a poor attempt to reconcile with Ella. Instead of a kiss, he tightly held her hands, wrapped her in an embrace and pressed his lips to her temple.   
  
But when she leaned in and touched their lips together, he let those thoughts go.   
  
Instead he focused on the sensation of her soft lips upon his own, the way they fit together just so, how they moved together and the way it felt as if a fire burned beneath his skin where it touched her own. He felt the slide of her hands up around his neck to his shoulders as she pulled him closer. The soft mewling noise she made as their kiss progressed imprinted itself on his memory in the best of ways.  
  
Rides in the wood, mysteries without names, a forgotten shoe, a kingdom searched... _This_ , Kit said to himself as they continued to kiss, _this was worth all the wait._  
  



	4. Memories, the best and worst kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While enlightened with knowledge, Kit finds memories can be painful and bittersweet. And as the present fades into memories, Ella intends to focus on creating her happiness anew.

“And she called her a...a...,” Kit grunted in frustration.

“The Lady called her a ‘wretched servant girl’,” the Captain repeated. He raised up his hand in a soothing manor as Kit’s features twisted darkly. “Believe me, between those words and that they took to calling her ‘Cinderella’ because of sleeping near the fire in order to survive the cold nights, the reports do not get any better. What does the young lady say?”

Kit sighed in mild frustration. Three days of conversations, long and short, bittersweet and hopeful, yet for all they revealed of themselves to each other, Ella spoke little of her stepfamily. “She does not wish to speak ill of them. She forgives them of their unkindness and wishes only not be around them if they must come to court.” He rubbed a hand across his forehead, leaning back into his chair. The affairs of the land and court already completed for the day, he sought out the Captain for the investigation regarding Ella and what happened after the ball.

“Your Lady has all fine skills of a diplomat. She will be excellent Queen,” the Captain nodded. “But for what she has not said, those around her have. Servants that were in the home before their dismissal, many of whom still maintain contact with her now; shopkeepers and seamstresses -- they have all witnessed the cruelty which the Lady Tremaine and her daughters have inflicted upon Lady Ella. They have made no friends here beyond the former Arch Duke.” He unravelled a second scroll, much older and slightly dusty. “Additionally, we recovered the will of the late Lord which entails that upon his death, Ella, his first and only child, would receive right to the estate, his finances, and several incomes from various investments and his cloth trade.”

Kit stared at the first scroll unravelled before him; more than 20 names of reputable men and women in the city along with the terrible details of the daily abuse of Ella. And this list contained only the merchants and business owners that knew her. Farmers whom knew her since childhood, friends of her parents, servants that helped to raise her --- they made up another two scrolls. His much beloved Ella...so horribly treated. Why? What sense did it make?

* * *

  _“I--I do not ask for retribution,” Ella spoke in a gentle but firm voice. She rested her hand upon his, his grip that unconsciously tightened upon the swing's rope loosening with warmth of her touch. “They have mistreated me. And for all that has happened, I do not bear ill will or hatred against them. I ask only that if they are to be at court that I would not spend time with them. I want---I want time to let go. And to move forward with you.” She let him pull her into his lap as he rocked them to and fro on the swing. Resting his face against her neck, he inhaled slowly and let her lean against him. “All will fade into memory and I intend to make beautiful ones with you.”_

* * *

 “What should be done with them, your highness?,” the Captain’s voice broke through the recent memory.

Kit shook his head for a moment, pushing back the perfume of camellias and roses that rested so gently on Ella’s skin. “They kept her from me. Lied about her presence in the home. Defied a royal edict. Attempted to defy the orders of the Captain of the Guard and threatened my bride-to-be with malicious intent. In addition to that, Lady Tremaine violated the legally binding will of her late second husband which left everything to his daughter.”

He rose from his chair and walked to the window that overlooked the palace orchards. Kit made out the linen and lace tent covers a distance away; Ella asked for her lessons to take place outside while the weather remained fair and warm.

Kit turned back to the Captain. “My future Queen would not see them harmed. But she did not seem disagreeable with the banishment of our former friend, the Arch Duke. Perhaps removing them from our kingdom would best serve as punishment and for the Lady’s peace of mind.”

“Banishment would be...severe but I dare say, not as terrible as imprisonment or execution,” the Captain agreed. “I shall have the proclamation before you by tomorrow morning.” Kit nodded, turning as the doors opened to reveal one of his footmen carrying a small wooden crate.

“I pray there was no trouble?”

The footman shook his head, “No, your highness. But I do believe the guardsmen made sure of it. There was much wretched shouting and the home seemed almost tossed about.” He placed the crate on the King’s desk and stepped back as Kit approached. “This was all that the Lady described as her own.” Kit felt his heart clench tight. A picture of her mother, spools of colored thread, a branch with dried leaves, a folded paper butterfly that appeared to be torn -- Ella’s precious possessions all tucked into a small crate. Unassuming yet sweet and innocent; much like the owner.

Deserving of more, just like Ella.

"The Lady is made of the strongest steel and yet as soft as the clouds in the sky," the Captain remarked quietly as he picked up a spool of the thread to examine it. "I hope to do justice by her at all times, your highness."

"As I hope to deserve her with all that I do, my friend."

* * *

Ella studied the object before her with increasing curiosity.

A solid wooden chest sat on the square table draped in soft blue linens. Place settings for two, a large bouquet of fragrant flowers and herbs in the middle, and two silver candelabras illuminated the immediate space. Torches made up the rest of the light as they lined stone path leading up to the small terrace. She ran her hand over it, feeling the cool wood grain against her palm before running her fingers across the carved designs. A long garland framed the edges with small birds, mice, lizards, and a goose appearing within and around the flowers and leaves. The pale wood shone in the candlelight and she mad out the small jewels embedded in the center of the open flowers.

When Louisa, her new handmaiden, brought word that dinner this evening with the King would be out in the gardens, she found herself giddy with happiness and quickly set to the task of choosing one of her new gowns for the affair. With the help of Louisa, she determined to wear a soft green dress trimmed with embroidered lily of the valley and curling vines. Though style dictated her hair be coiffed up and away, she wore it down, allowing the silky strands to brush along her ears and neck. All of her handmaidens gushed about her pale blonde locks and after many gentle washings and brushings, Ella never felt the need to keep hidden in a twist or bun. That aside, Kit often remarked on the sweet smell and texture of her locks as he ran his fingers through the loose curls.

The nearby sound of boots against stone brought her back from her thoughts and she turned to see the King coming up the walk. Bowing deeply, she let her eyes shut briefly as she tried to control the rising blush in her cheeks. _His clothing always sits so well on him,_ whispered a voice in her head. She pushed down the thoughts of kisses stolen in hallways and just inside of closed doors.

“I hope I have not kept you waiting long,” he smiled, removing his gloves before taking up her hand. As she stood, he brushed a gentle kiss over her knuckles. “The Earls do love to chatter long.”

“Well your majesty is such an excellent listener,” she offered back with her own grin. He squeezed her hand affectionately and lead her the short distance to the table. Kit immediately noticed her attention fix to the box. When they stood before it, he paused. Ella’s voice was a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “Are we to dine on the box this evening?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, I dare say we are in for one of the chef’s usual incredible delicacies. We shall have to suffer through another fine meal instead of dining on woodwork. A shame, really.” Ella’s laugh twinkled and some how rang lightly in the crystal goblets on the table. Kit felt the need to pinch himself just to keep steady. “No, I’m afraid this is not for consumption but rather it is a gift for you.”

Ella sucked in a breath before leaning into his arm and wrapping her own about it. “You have granted me so many gifts these past few days alone. If you keep going, I fear I may become spoiled and positively intolerable.”

“Never,” he breathed, unaware that her acute hearing picked up on the barely audible word. Her grip tightened slightly more. “Would you like to open it now?” he asked, feeling her own giddiness at the gift seep through the layers of his clothing and into his skin. He watched her smile grow again and cheeks stain soft and lush as she nodded.

After relinquishing her hold, she ran her fingers once more along the top before finding the hinges at the back. Gently, she lifted the lid and watched as the light revealed the interior. And brought tears to her eyes.

A soft tinkling music filled the air as a small music box organ played from somewhere within. Familiar objects sat nestled against dark blue silk: her mother’s picture, now framed in gold; the flower box her father gave her along with the purple butterfly, wings now mended; three spools of string in green, pink, and blue - all sitting in a small container with fitted slots; her mother’s needles in a small leather pouch; the oak branch her father sent ahead before his passing lay along the center in a space specific to its size.

When she raised her eyes from her own private bounty, she realized the interior lid was not covered in the same blue but rather a watercolor painting of her family’s home sat staring up at her. The music, a song her mother taught her, the song Kit heard that day at the manse. It became hard for Ella to focus then she couldn’t see at all for her tears. She felt arms on her shoulders and she turned into the touch, pressing her face into Kit’s neck. Faint tremors passed through her form as she cried silently with only a soft hitching breath giving her away.

“It’s beautiful, Kit,” she whispered, gratitude soaked in her voice. “I love it. And I love you.” He ran a hand down her back in a soothing manor before kissing her cheek.

“You spoke of so many wonderful times with your family and home. I wanted you to be able to see it everyday even if you are here.” He stepped back but kept her in the circle of his arms. “When all finished, the mansion will be reopened as retreat for you. A place for the Queen to relax and get away from the fuss of the palace.” He touched his forehead to her own, “A place with all the love of your family to surround you.”

“A place like here, where we can be together and our lives will grow,” she spoke softly. Her arms circled his neck and she moved into his hold further. “A place for us,” she whispered as their lips brushed. The servants nearby gave privacy to their King and future bride but could not manage to keep the smiles off their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS.  
> THIS FLUFFY SUGARY SAPPY SLOPPY SOPPY LOVEY DOVEY STUFF.  
> LET ME SHARE WITH YOU.  
> (Thank you for reading!!)


	5. Engagement, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning brings news and worries. Also, bacon and scones [Part One of Three]

  
If the Prince’s Ball appeared crowded and exciting, then the Engagement Day celebrations resembled something near chaos. And the morning of the day-long event brought only more stress and worry. Waking before dawn, reviewing scrolls and plans, addressing every tiny detail from the fold of the napkins to the buckles on the horsemen shoes being shined -- Lord and Lady Bessaire, long standing Heads of the Royal Household, traveled with a near caravan of assistants and servants just to keep up.  
  
The events of today marked the first time Lady Ella appears publicly as the intended Bride and future Queen. This included festivities throughout the kingdom including a parade just before noon, a performance by children of the nobility after luncheon, an open tour of the palace gardens at twilight and at night, a city-wide party for the commoners, a ball for the nobility and visiting royalty, then an large fireworks display from both the palace and the ships on the water.  
  
No small feat to manage.  
  
But despite the impending activity of the day, Ella still found herself relaxed and comfortable at a breakfast table with Kit. She wore a house gown in a yellow so pale it mirrored the early morning brightness. Her hair bound back in a loosely tied up in similarly colored ribbons, messy ringlets escaping here and there. Soft woolen socks and fur-lined dressing slippers kept her feet protected from the morning’s chill. She admired the view from across the table of his majesty, wearing a deep red dressing robe that hung open ever so slightly to show his undershirt. His attention lay with several short dispatches that required review and approval before the day thoroughly got underway.  
  
Ella sipped at her morning tea, enjoying the smoky taste accompanied with the honey and milk she took in it. As she placed it down, several servants entered with trays of hot and cool breakfast foods. The table became laden with such enticing delicacies, she hardly knew where to start. Small scones, biscuits, cakes, and delicious crusty pastries sat next to freshly cut fruit and cream. Hot bacon and potatoes with toasted bread enticed her with promises of a full stomach and memories of breakfasts with her family.

After nearly three years of being given table scraps and hard crusts of days old bread, every meal appeared a feast to her. And after the physician reported on a lack of healthy weight, Ella became quickly aware of how Kit worried when she only took bites of food instead of full plates. To her stomach's credit, she ate more in the last few days than in the past few years with little discomfort. Time, it seemed, will be her ally.

 _I'll need two corsets to get me into my new clothes if I keep eating like this,_ she joked mentally.

  
She got lost in processing all before when Kit’s voice startled her slightly. “Please do not wait for me, my dearest. I’m on the last of these and will eat shortly,” he spoke in a mildly distracted voice. Ella nodded and decided to enjoy sweets this morning - a scone with butter and jam, a pink petit four with a delicate blue design on top, and strips of bacon to add savory to her plate.   
  
Shortly Kit finished with the last of the letters and handed them back to his groomsman. A yawn escaped him and though he quickly covered his mouth, the crack of his jaw still reached Ella’s ears. “Were the letter so stimulating?” she asked around a bite of scone.  
  
“Thrillingly so. I cannot imagine a morning without reports about silk prices and a Lord’s complaints about the noise of guards riding through the city at night,” he voiced behind another short yawn before rolling his eyes at her. “What ever would the day be like without them?”   
  
“I fear incomplete,” she teased back. He helped himself to selection of foods and took a long draw of strong tea (a slice of sugared lemon at the bottom of the cup, Ella noted). “What says the weather report? Should be concerned about the thickening clouds today?”   
  
“According to the reports, they will pass until tomorrow and then the rain will set in.”  
  
“Autumn usually brings quite a bit of rain,” she nodded after sip of now lukewarm tea. “I’ve heard that the cold air will come back early this year and we may see snow before the month is out. As much as it is beautiful, I’m not overly fond of the cold air.”  
  
“You are in luck then that our wedding falls at the turn of the month,” Kit said with a gesture towards the bay. “Every noble will send you furs enough to bury you and half the palace under. My father told me the same of when he married my mother. She never worried for the cold as long as she lived after her wedding day.”  
  
“Do they...all bring gifts?” she asked quietly. The thought of every noble giving her something overwhelmed her; her marriage is to the King, how could she ever want or need more? Although she knew gifts exchanged for birthdays and holidays, she knew very little about what weddings required.  
  
“It’s tradition to pay tribute to a newly married pair, especially to a new Queen. Wishes for health and prosperity,” he replied, watching Ella’s expressions shift.  
  
“I...didn’t know that was tradition. I’ve not been to wedding myself and my father’s...second marriage took place before he returned home,” she explained in hushed voice. Her soft eyes met his concerned ones. “Another thing I did not know.”  
  
Kit took up her hand and kissed it gently, keeping eye contact. “I’ve only been to a few myself and most when I was a small boy.” His face twisted comically, “Too stuffy an affair for my tastes. Lord So-and-So with a huge powdered wig marrying Lady So-and-So who looked like she carried several birds in her own. Bound up in these ridiculous outfits that made them look like walking cakes.” Ella chuckled at the image and Kit smiled to see her happy again. He leaned in, tugging her forward gently to where their foreheads touched. “You are in no way deficient for not having to watch a Lady waddle by with servants using long sticks to prevent her hair from falling or catching ablaze.” He caught her sweet laughter in a gentle kiss, leaving her breathless but still smiling.   
  
“So we are to don wigs then?” she teased.  
  
“Huge ones. With ships that fire cannons and need half the court to keep up,” he continued as Ella sat back in her chair, shaking with laughter. She drew a strong breath and settled, her hand still clasped with his own. Kit leaned back into his seat and brought his free hand to his face, rubbing his chin in thought.  
  
 _Ella, in a gown of pure white._  
 _Ella, with a long trailing veil._  
 _Ella, with flowers on her dress and in her hair._  
 _Ella, walking down the long hall, the world watching her graceful movements._  
 _Ella, taking the vows._

 _Ella, his wife._  
  
“You will be resplendent, my love,” he promised her in a quiet voice, speaking only for her ears. “And all of the kingdom will be just as much in awe of you as I am everyday.” Her blissful smile mirrored his own as she leaned in to kiss him again.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast is my favorite meal hence the descriptions of the food. 
> 
> Also, for the wonderful message I received regarding Ella's health and weight, it will be addressed over time with the story. The Fairy Godmother put a spell on her to make her appear perfect at the ball; as Kit noticed in the first chapter, she is actually underweight and malnourished. While I have no direct experience with anorexia myself, I fight with obesity, another type eating disorder so I'm drawing on my own psychological experience to write for her. I want to do justice by Ella and anyone who has or is battling weight disorders. If ever I am unfair or incorrect in what is posted, please let me know. 
> 
> And to anyone that struggled with any kind of eating disorder, PTSD, depression or have been abused, the fights are invisible to most people but you are strong and a force of nature. You have all my love and support.


	6. Engagement, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kit remembers stories from his mother and watches as Ella charms everyone from the nobility to the commoners. Also, there is another lost shoe.

Of several things Kit now understood to be true:  
  
One, though not openly talked about, the Fairy Folk existed. His mother taught him of such things quietly at the fireside and when they wandered the gardens at night. Her people kept ancient records of treaties marked with the touch of magic to seal all bargains. Deep in the darkest glens and woods in the thick of night; out in the wildflower fields absent of human activity; along the rocky coasts and lagoons of the seas. “Out there,” she whispered sweetly to him, pointing across the lawn of the palace and into the wood dotted with fireflies, “They live in secret, only coming when fate draws them near.”  
  
Two, certain humans possessed a strain of Fae blood. Stories like “your uncle met a strange woman in the wood” or “the man of mysterious eyes swept her off her feet” hid the fact that somewhere, someone bore a child by a Fairy. The relationships often passed quickly with either a separation or a death to end it but always, for as long as the couple remained together, they experienced pure joy and happiness. As a child, he wished desperately for confirmation of such for himself but alas, his direct lineage remained always firm and straightforward. His mother always apologized lightly for his lack of magical blood.  
  
Three, magic lay within Ella. She never used it directly but he noticed small things about her daily that fell either as pure coincidence or small feats of magic. Talking to animals came to mind; he knew of no one with such ability. And as he accepted a small band of creatures understood and spoke to her, gradually, he began to hear the faint squeak of words and phrases when near them. When he spoke to her about it, she smiled brightly and expressed her pleasure that she was no longer alone in understanding them.  
  
But the magic went further. And affected more people than even Ella realized.  
  
These thoughts lingered at the periphery of his mind as the busy day commenced.  
  
The doors to his suite swung open as the music started to play. Pacing his steps, he exited the room at the same time Ella came out from across the way. Both turned and circled the upper floor towards the top of the grand staircase. Below, a crowd of royal visitors, dignitaries, and nobility caught their first glimpse of the future Queen. The appreciative and approving murmur of the people below came of no surprise to him.  
  
Ella appeared as a vision of loveliness. She wore a beautiful gown with the colors of kingdom woven through the design: a bodice and flowing skirt of sky blue with tiny pale yellow nasturtium flowers embroidered across the top of the bodice up onto the off-the-shoulder sleeves and down along the skirt edge. The skirt swayed like water with blues and yellows peaking out from beneath as she walked. Long ringlets of her pale gold hair dropped over her shoulder from where they came from beneath an intricate set of twists and small silver pins. Per tradition, she wore no necklace or earrings, no adornments on her wrists or fingers. Kit felt no jewels even compared to how she looked.  
  
Though as they reached each other at the top of the stairs, Kit imagined if she wore sack cloth and rope her beauty still would shine through. Voices from below dropped away as they beheld her entirely.  
  
She dipped into a deep obeisance, arms at her side, wide and inviting. “My King,” she spoke firmly.  
  
Kit paused a moment before bowing towards her and extending his hand. Their eyes met and both fought to control their smiles as she accepted and rose up. “My Lady Ella,” he responded softly. They turned, faced the crowd and descended the stairs together, her hand resting lightly in his own. Upon reaching the first landing, they paused at the rail.  
  
The herald, standing off to the side, gently cleared his through and tapped his staff upon the marble floor. “Good people of Aldany, presenting unto you, King Christopher of Aldany.” The people bowed in unison, a nervous energy passing through the room as they awaited the next part. “And for the first time, presenting to the kingdom of Aldany, Lady Ella Sauveterre of Aldany, daughter of the late Lord and Lady Sauveterre.”  
  
With her grip tightening ever so slightly on his gloved hand, Ella dipped another graceful bow. The crowd returned the gesture, some with more flourish than others as they realized their King’s eyes swept over them. Many appeared almost entranced at the site of her, gazes steady but eyes soft and amazed. He squeezed Ella’s hand back in encouragement as she rose up again, greeting her gentle smile with one of his own.  
  
The herald continued, “In accordance with laws of Aldany, and by his Royal Highness’s decree, let it be known to all subjects of this land the intention of King Christopher of Aldany to be wed to Lady Sauveterre in 3 weeks time. As is custom, Lady Sauveterre will thence be crowned 3 days after as Queen of Aldany. As it is the word of the King, so it is law of the land. God save the King!”  
  
“God save the King!” the crowd chanted back before a loud applause broke out. After a moment, Kit lead Ella down to the left, nodding to the gentry as they spread apart to line the hall. Later on, individual introductions occurred and from the way the people whispered and stared, he felt the time for them appeared too far away for their taste. For her part, Ella smiled and bid greetings to all whose eyes she met. Kit enjoyed watching each person almost light up and bow again with faint murmurs of “My lady” on their lips.  
  
He gratefully lead them down the hallways, trailing curious nobles in their wake, as they made for the carriage prepared to carry them into the city and countryside. When they reached the doors to the palace, they stopped once more and the herald announced them again. This time, as they exited the doorway, hundreds of merchants and guild masters lined the long stone stairs down to the courtyard. In this much larger crowd stood those who knew Ella from her trips into town on errands from before. To those she knew, she greeted by name, smiling brightly at their cheerful and adoring gazes.  
  
“Your highness,” the Captain greeted, bowing with a large smile on his face. Kit grinned at him and turned to Ella slightly.  
  
“Lady Ella Sauveterre may I present Lord Rowen Grosvenor, Captain of the King’s Guard,” he said with some amount of humor. Ella and Rowen met many times before but this first ‘official’ meeting required an exchange of names beyond ‘lady’ and ‘captain’.  
  
Lord Rowan took up Ella’s offered, bowing as he kissed her knuckles. “It is beyond a pleasure, my Lady.”  
  
“Thank you, my Lord Captain,” she returned sweetly. Lord Rowan released her hand and watched with a chuckle as Kit quickly retrieved it. He then lead the short distance to courtyard filled with the finely dressed King’s Guard on horseback.  
  
The open-air carriage of blue and gold waited with garlands of flowers and thick velvet bunting. The cover came up only half way to allow some respite from heat and sun. Lord Rowan opened the door and assisted Ella up into the interior. She noticed the large, thick black fur draped across where they were to sit and one of her capes folded on the space across from them. Kit followed shortly and with the door shut, the Captain departed their company for his own steed.  
  
Kit watched as she ran her hands over the ebon fur, her pale skin striking against the color. “I feared with wind and cooler days you would become cold,” he explained in a low voice as they settled next to each other. Ella flashed a grateful smile.  
  
“You think of things I would not have planned for,” she responded, taking up his hand and kissing it. “I thank you for your kindness, my King.”  
  
Kit leaned forward as if to readjust in the seat and pressed a secret, swift kiss to her bare shoulder. “For you, my Queen, anything.”

* * *

  
The route took little more than an hour to complete alone but with full regimes, the King’s Guard, and so many on horseback, they planners assumed at least 2 hours. The carriage left from the main courtyard to go down the large avenue of the city, turning twice before heading out to the main road before circling back to the rear of the palace and delivering the couple after at the garden entrance.  
  
Scattered thick clouds gave away to soft wisps that faded under the brightness of the autumn sun. Even with the chilling winds, the sun more than made up for the cold and Ella kept from wrapping up until the very end. But perhaps the sun should not receive all the credit.  
  
After all, it appeared the entire kingdom turned out for the parade.  
  
Flower petals rained down upon them, trumpets blasted as they crossed from one part of the city into the next, people shouted and cheered, waving to their young Monarch and the Lady from their own lands. People from Ella’s past and present blew kisses and well wishes as she returned the enthusiastic greetings. She even caught a bouquet of mixed flowers tossed to her by children who watched from rooftops and balconies. The little ones crowed and cheered as she pressed them to her nose then held the bundle to her chest.  
  
The city streets turned to the long main passage past the gates and still more people lined up to cheer and celebrate. When they reached the end of the main road and began their trip back towards the palace, she leaned into his shoulder slightly and rested. Kit drew the fur cover over her shoulders before kissing her cheek.  
  
“How did I do?” she whispered.  
  
“Well...I may have to put a moratorium on the number of men at court allowed to be near the Queen now that they’ve seen just how beautiful you are,” he jested. “Even the little ones can’t seem to keep their eyes off you.”  
  
“Oh, but who will give me such beautiful flowers if not the children?” she teased back, holding up her gifted bouquet. Taking another deep breath, she paused and moved some of the blossoms around. It appeared to be made of wild flowers and a small branch with soft white flowers. “Orange blossoms,” she murmured to herself, eyes staring off distantly. She blinked several times before turning to a mildly confused Kit. A soft blush rose up her cheeks and she shook her head gently before leaning back as his arm circled her shoulder.  
  
Both took respite in the brief lull of activity and enjoyed their ride back to home.

* * *

  
A short sob escaped her mouth before she pressed her hands to her lips. Lola Beaulieu knew even at the ripe age of 7 that young ladies do not cry at court. But with the loss of her dancing slipper and the time for their performance rapidly approaching, she found herself not only potentially in a lot of trouble but beside herself with upset.  
  
Oh, she wants to dance for the King and the Lady! She spent these past weeks learning a courtly dance with a little boy partner. But now it wouldn’t be him stepping on her toes that made her cry. And today is so important! Her mama and papa praised her, told her the future Queen may choose her as a lady in waiting one day for her dancing skills alone.  
  
Lola rubbed her eyes in a vain attempt to stop the tears but found they still escaped. Fat droplets fell onto her new pink dress making a dark wet spot on the skirt. She covered her face and tried to be quiet.  
  
“My dear, what is wrong?” asked a concerned voice. Lola peered up from behind her hand to find a tall lady with a pale blue dress coming toward her. A wide skirt fluttered as she came up quickly to her. The woman knelt down and put Lola’s hands in her own. “What is it, my child? Are you hurt?”  
  
“No, my lady,” Lola whimpered. “It’s just---I lost my shoe and-and I am to dance for the King but I cannot find my shoe!” The tears fell fast as she admitted to the loss. The woman smiled kindly then retrieved a handkerchief from her small bag and dabbed at her tears. “Mama will be so mad with me!”  
  
“Oh, I don’t think she’ll be so mad with you,” the woman assured her, pulling her into a comforting hug. Lola hugged her back, sniffling quietly. After a moment, she felt much calmer and the tears stopped. She inhaled a refreshing breath and picked up the sweet smell of flowers from the lady. “Now, let us look together,” she instructed, standing up while taking Lola’s hand. “Let us start with where you have been. Walk me through where you went and we may yet find your wayward shoe. I have a similar problem with my shoes getting lost as well.”

* * *

  
  
“I did not think we would find it!”  
  
“Well it did find a rather interesting place to hide on us.”  
  
“My lady, I do not know how it could have got in a flower pot,” Lola exclaimed in wonder. “How could get there?”  
  
“Well Lola,” the woman started as she knelt down to help with the tricky shoe straps, “they say when you dance, it is as if your feet are flying across the floor. Maybe your shoes grew wings and flew about!” They both giggled at the thought. “Now there! Tightened laces should prevent your shoe from running amok again.”  
  
Lola perched on the edge of a chair and swung her legs to and fro merrily. “I can still dance for the King and the Lady!”  
  
“Is that what you will be doing?” The woman looked across the room at a large clock and made a clicking noise. “Well, we best get you there now. It’s nearly time!”  
  
“Will you be there too, my lady?”  
  
“I would not miss it for anything,” she assured her with a bright smile. Lola grinned but paused for a moment as she studied this wonderfully helpful person.  
  
“My lady, you wear no jewels today! It is a very special day too! Mama told me everyone is meeting the King’s bride. You should have something special on to wear!” Lola explained patiently.  
  
The woman chuckled, “Is that so? But what I am I to do now as it is so late in the day? I won’t be able to find even a necklace wear until the ball later on.”  
  
The girl thought for a moment before hurriedly pulling a tiny bag off her waist ribbon and opening it up. She pulled out a thick black ribbon with a small white oval hanging from it. She held it flat in her hand and proudly showed it to the woman. “I made this from ribbon and beads Mama let me buy from the jeweler. The picture is of the glass slipper everyone tried on before the King found the lady it belonged to.” Lola placed it firmly in the lady’s hand. “I want you to have it. So you’ll look pretty today too.”  
  
“I do not wish to take such a beautiful necklace from you,” the woman replied, her smile still bright and kind.  
  
“Then...I am giving it to you as a gift. For helping me find my shoe!” Lola proclaimed. “Here! I’ll put it on you!” The woman’s smile grew and she turned, lifting up the few loose curls off her neck for Lola to tie the necklace on. When she finished the bow, the woman turned around and Lola admired how it looked. The short ribbon turned it from necklace to collar but it appeared so beautiful on the lady.  
  
The lady stood and peered into a mirror nearby, her smile flush with happiness. “I shall treasure this gift always, my friend,” she stated with joy. “Come! We must get to your dance!”  
  
They walked out of the study hand-in-hand then down the hallway before someone called out to the lady. Both ladies turned to see a young man clad in white breeches and a pale blue coat come upon them. “I turn around for a moment and you disappear,” he cried out in mock frustration. Coming upon them, he placed a kiss on the woman’s cheek. “I shall have to put a bell on your wrist so I know where you go.” He paused and gently touched the necklace with a curious look.  
  
“I was helping my new friend, the Lady Lola, find her runaway shoe,” she explained, gesturing towards the little girl. “She gifted this beautiful necklace to me in thanks but also so I will look more beautiful for the King. It is very important day for him and his future bride.”  
  
“Is that so?” the man asked with teasing smile. Lola barely noticed the gentleman lean forward let alone scoop her up into his arms. She laughed as placed her on his hip before checking each of her shoes. “Are the lady’s shoes tied tightly? No risk of missing footwear?”  
  
“She tightened my laces and did double bows,” Lola grinned, pointing her right foot. “That one won’t get away again!”  
  
“I’m glad to hear of it,” the man laughed before nodding at the lady. “She has a horrible habit of loosing her shoes as well. Perhaps we should make sure her laces are tightened as well!”  
  
“Alas, I am wearing slippers today! No laces to be found!” she announced with a dramatic flair. “I shall simply hope that some kind gentleman will find what I lost and bring us together again.”  
  
“Always,” the man spoke, leaning in to kiss the woman on the lips and giving cause for Lola to laugh. “But now, we must go to the hall. For I believe you are wearing dancing shoes!” he exclaimed cheerfully. “Are you dancing today?”  
  
“Yes, my lord. I am dancing for the King and the future Queen. Will you be there as well?”  
  
He took up the sweet lady’s hand while continuing to carry Lola. “I would not miss it for anything.”

* * *

  
Later on, after much fuss and happy exclamations, Lola found herself very tired and slowly being lulled to sleep by the rocking of the carriage. Though her parents only returned home to change for the ball, they talked as if the best part of the day already occurred. Their hushed voices expedited her into a comfortable sleep.  
  
“I could hardly believe it! Our daughter being carried by the King into ballroom. Then to find out that the Lady Sauveterre, our future Queen, accepted a gift from her! Oh, for once, I am glad she still has trouble keeping her shoes on...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to my dear best friend, Meredith, who inspired my selection of Ella's last name. 
> 
> Remember what the Fairy Godmother said: Names have power. All of my character's specific names I chose for their meaning; this also includes the flowers I mention. 
> 
> Except for the kingdom name. That was one I actually just made up.


	7. Engagement, Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fireworks shine in the night sky while jewels glitter in candlelight. And Kit receives an unusual visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This is by far the sappiest, sweetest, most fairy tale feeling chapter I've written so far. So much fluff, I should be handing out complimentary insulin with it.
> 
> You've been warned.

Brilliant flashes of green and blue lit up the moonless night sky. Glittering silver and gold trailed across the darkness before gently falling down like a rain of jewels. Each color popped and expanded as men in the palace fields and down on the harbor barges continued to light the fireworks.

From the docks at the water to the terrace and gardens of the palace, the people admired the display with applause and cheering. The city itself appeared as a living creature of lights and movement as the party that started at sundown continued well into the night. At the palace, dancing temporarily halted to see the display outside but the musicians continued with playful tunes and triumphant songs. Trays of champagne circulated through the crowd and many took up a glass, toasting the engagement of their young Monarch to a fine lady of Aldany.

At the moment, though, no one quite knew where the couple went to, having vanished before the display began.

But the disappearance came with no mystery and occurred quite purposefully.

Up the grand staircase and around to the right, a pair of doors opened onto a small balcony. Though large enough to hold several, only Kit and Ella stood together arm in arm, sipping at their own glasses of champagne and enjoying the fireworks alone. When the announcement came and music for the display began, he drew her away from the crowd and they moved quickly up to the private space. From here, they took in a perfect view of the gardens and saw down to the water display as well.

Ella leaned into Kit’s shoulder a little more and took slow deep breaths. This day by far was the longest in the last week. Between parades, dance performances, meetings and greetings, gifts, dinner, and the ball, if she sat long enough, she feared sleep would claim her. Even as such, the smile on her face appeared to be permanently affixed.

The nobility appeared quite welcoming of her, many passing positive commentary on not only her beauty but that she came from Aldany. Some remembered her father, remarking on his honesty, fairness, and kindness with trade and business. A few recalled her mother and praised her nearly endless joy and sweetness. All the while, Kit held tight to her hand or arm, her happiness making him beam with pleasure.

And after delivering little Lady Lola to her dance, not an unkind word passed anyone’s lips, especially as Lola pointed out the future Queen wearing a necklace of her own design made from materials from their city. Lady Ella truly came from the people. The royal household could not make up this kind of good attention if they tried.

“Feeling tired, my love?” Kit asked, his voice soft enough for her ears alone. “Have the many dances finally taken their toll?”

“Yes but if you asked me, I would dance again with you,” she responded, curling into his arm. “Though only you. Some of the Lord’s...enthusiasm on the dance floor would be far too much for me now.”

“Are you referring to Lord Eddleton’s proclivity of going much faster, confusing steps from other dances, and crushing the toes of his partners?”

“Well, to be fair, he did not step on my feet,” she clarified, smiling around another sip of champagne.

Kit chuckled and brought their joined hands up, placing a kiss on back of her wrist. “The ballroom belonged to you once more tonight. Not a single soul looked away while you turned about.” The images of her on the dance floor, the now midnight blue dress decorated with gold and silver stars, swirling about as she spun. Reluctantly, he stepped aside as different lords and dignitaries asked for the honor of a dance. Even Lord Rowan, notorious for avoiding any sort of dancing, lead Ella through an upbeat waltz.

“Probably looking to see if I would dash through the door to the nearest carriage and take the palace guard on a wild chase again,” she giggled, the sensation in her head almost light and effervescent. Ella peered down at her now empty glass, realizing after many speeches, well wishers, and toasts, she lost any kind of count for how much champagne she took in. Placing it on the rail, she wrapped both arms around his one and leaned in. “You know I will never do it again, don’t you?”

“Do what?”

“Run away, disappear. Give you no explanation and leave you wondering,” she listed as her voice gradually lowered. “I didn’t want to the first time. Or the second. But...I had little choice." Kit shifted in her hold, pulling her into a loose embrace and touching foreheads. Ella’s eyelids fluttered shut as she whispered, “I don’t want to leave you again.” She felt his fingers beneath her chin and looked up into deepening blue of his eyes.

“You’ve spoken only briefly of why you left and I can find no fault or blame for it. Your courage and kindness brought about everything and I regret not a moment of the mystery surrounding you,” he explained in a steady, loving voice. “We are here, together now. The world knows you are more than a fairy tale and very real. They’ve seen your love for others and I hope they use that as example for their own actions.” He pressed a brief kiss to her lips. “I don’t know what I’ve done right to deserve you but it means every night I chase a carriage and every day I return your slipper, then I will do so until the day I die.”

Tears rolled down Ella’s face and Kit gently wiped them away before pulling her close once more and kissing her trembling lips. Silent sobs rattled her body and his hands ran soothingly up and down her back until she shook no more. Their lips parted and she laid her head against his shoulder as they watched the end of the fireworks.  

When the last large blue and silver explosion faded in shimmery lines, the crowd below applauded heartily and slowly began the process of heading towards the carriages and onward to home. Those who took residence within the palace itself would carry on in small parties or head for bed. The long day took a toll on everyone.

After a while, the noise died away and the sound of nightingales reached Ella’s ears. “This day has been so wonderful,” she sighed, cuddling into Kit’s embrace. “As tired as I am, I wish it wouldn’t end.” “

It is not over yet, my love,” Kit replied, kissing the top her head before pulling away. He took up both of her hands and lead her towards the doors. “There is one last thing before the night is over.” He winked conspiratorially causing her to smile as she followed.

He guided her through back stairwells and hidden passages to avoid being seen by any courtiers. The combination of champagne, excitement, and the last vestiges of her energy left Ella giggling and giddy as he lead her along.

When last they exited the passage, Ella realized they arrived in her rooms. “Is there one that leads from my room to yours?” she asked curiously.

“Two, actually,” he grinned, pulling her in for a quick kiss. “I will show them to you later. But for now...” They crossed the room to the large table in the middle. He stopped her a few paces back before gesturing to a nearby servant whom bowed and stepped out into the hall momentarily before opening the doors completely. Three men carried in four moderately sized dark wood boxes and placed them on the table. Kit walked to the side of the table, tugging at his jacket to straighten it.

When he turned, he schooled his face into a more stern expression; his eyes remained soft as he gazed at her.

“My Lady Sauveterre,” he began in a firm voice, “As you have accepted our proposal of marriage and in due time will marry us and become Queen of Aldany, you are due receive all the titles and adornments befitting your station. And so, I, Christopher, King of Aldany, present you with these.” His hand gestured towards the boxes as the servants opened all but one of them.

Suddenly, the gentle buzz of the alcohol disappeared from her head.

A dazzling array of jewels and precious stones winked up at her in the candlelight. After a moment of shock, Ella realized she beheld the Crown Jewels of the Queen, now in new settings fit to her size. The first box to the left held a stunning silver necklace lined with diamonds tucked into an intricate curling design. The necklace dripped down into a deep blue teardrop sapphire the length of her thumb. On either side of the large stone, earrings of the same design and gems rested.

In the next, a golden collar necklace encrusted with rubies sat with it’s own matching earrings along with several small golden bracelets. A brooch with a pale cameo rested in a slot on the lid along with pale golden choker with 5 large emeralds.

Ella hardly breathed as she beheld the next case - it held the Queen’s crown. A band of repeating silver leaves leading into pale blue diamonds created the base as tall arches with teardrops of the same softly color gem sat above. Along the top, tucked between the arches, thin silver stems rose up like flowers, holding shimmering diamonds. Crystals filled all of the spaces between and no matter the light, it shined and sparkled from every angle. An elegant silver ring with a square cut sapphire glittered up from where it rested just below the crown. Ella recognized it by description alone: the ring belonged to Kit’s mother.

“I...I...,” she stuttered before slowly dipping into a bow that left her kneeling on the floor. “Words cannot describe the immensity of my joy, your highness. I shall endeavor to be worthy of such gifts.”

A group of sighs made Kit turn his head; the servants’ expressions ranged from adoring to blissful. With a soft clearing of his voice, they came back to themselves and stood up stoically. He suppressed his grin and walked over to Ella. Bowing down, he offered his hand and assisted her to rise. Her eyes shined with unshed tears and he fought hard not to drag her into his arms and kiss her tears away. Instead, he kissed her hand.

“One more gift,” he encouraged, amusement in his voice causing Ella to give a watery laugh herself. Guiding her over, he watched her gently touch the jewels with appreciative murmurs. After a few minutes, she gazed up at him and nodded.

“Gentlemen,” Kit dismissed with a wave of the his hand. They bowed before closing up the first three boxes before taking them away. After everyone left and the doors closed, he scooted her down the table playfully (her tinkling laughter brought him the utmost cheer) and stopped her before the last box. “Now this...I will be honest, this occurred last evening before I retired to bed,” he said with scoff of amazement.

His fingers traced the edge of the box and tapped against it a few times before he continued, “You’ve not spoken of how your other glass slipper...was broken.” He watched her expression shutter for a moment before she met his eyes again, eyes timid but curious. “But what I didn’t tell you was how the Arch Duke brought the broken heel to me. Claimed it was abandoned on the side of the road on the way out of the kingdom and you were far and away from here. It was then I decided to dress as a King’s Guard and follow him through the kingdom. He knew something and given how hard he pressed the Princess of Zheragoza, I knew he wouldn’t even try to find you.” “I kept the broken piece in my room and endeavored to find a artisan who could repair or create a similar one for you to wear again.”

“For our wedding,” she spoke with a beatific smile, fingers lacing with his own. Kit stumbled mute for a moment before clearing his throat again. _How does she do that?_

“Yes, for our wedding. Last night, however, something happened...”

* * *

_Despite the need for sleep, Kit lay awake, staring up at the ceiling and wondering. Tomorrow promised many things: introductions, impressions, formalities, requirements, and official declarations._

_All of it centered around Ella and himself._

_Every room of the palace sat full with courtiers; the closest mansions filled with noble guests of every sort. Having spent his lifetime surrounded in such crowds and expectations, Kit approached the day with practiced ease and repetition. Meanwhile, Ella went from slave in her own home to engaged to a King and spent the last 6 days in an absolute whirlwind of coaching and tutoring. Everyone that worked with her spoke of her incredible grace and poise, her fast learning and bravery at taking on each task with full heart amazing them all._

_The forgetful maiden who is always losing her shoes. Well, her one shoe._

_Realizing sleep wasn’t forthcoming, Kit rose up and donned his dressing robe. With only the guide of a waning crescent moon, he moved from his bedroom into his private chambers. He retrieved a key from the bottom of a drawer and went over to the dark wooden box standing on a bureau. The key slid into the slot and with a short turn, the latch released and he lifted the lid. The glass slipper winked up at him, catching the pale moon light in every facet. Kit smiled softly to himself as he traced the crystal butterfly sitting on the toe. His eyes followed the rainbow colors as they lit up the interior of the box and revealed the broken heel._

_Picking it up, he turned it about in his hand briefly, remembering how his heart stopped then began pounding when it came into his possession. A sign of her! A clue to where she may be! Holding it upright, he lined it up with the heel of the completed shoe and grimaced. So far his luck remained poor in finding whom originally crafted it and even worse of someone who could make anything close to it. His hopes of Ella donning them once more for their wedding faded slightly._

_“Well it doesn’t help you to be glum about it, now does it?”_

_Kit practically jumped out of his skin at the feminine voice that broke the silence. In his motion, he knocked into the box and both the piece and whole shoe came tumbling out. Blessed with quick reflexes, he grabbed both before they struck the marble floor. His eyes darted up to find an incredibly peculiar sight: a woman, hair almost white and piled high up in curls, wearing a large white dress that appeared to have wings on the back, and holding a wand in one hand while the other sat on her hip._

_She nodded to his armful, “At least I know you will work for the answer to your problems.”_

_He managed to upright the box and replace the pieces as he stuttered to find words. “How--how--who...?”_

_“Who? Who am I? I hope that’s the question, dear. Otherwise I would be confused as to why the King is making owl noises,” she replied with a quirk of her dark eyebrow. “Who I am is of no consequence beyond that I am Ella’s Fairy Godmother. And how is less a question of me and more of you. How can you even see in here? It is so dark!” With a flick of her wrist, trails of light dashed to the nearby candelabra and produced flames on the wicks. “Ah, much better!”_

_Presently stunned, Kit realized that his robe hung half open and remedied quickly but cinching up the tie. “My dear King, for all the time I have lived, you don’t think I’ve seen a man in his nightclothes before?” she spoke in a tone that both teased and queried. “Besides, as much as you are beautiful to look at, I am actually here for Ella.”_

_“She is not in...my quarters,” he started, still working on the part where a fairy now wandered through his room._

_“Oh, I am aware. And let me tell you, if I found otherwise, you would have woken up croaking on a lily pad,” she warned as she came forward. “No, I am here to remedy an act of cruelty and jealousy. Please,” her wand waved at the box, “Show me the broken one.”_

_Kit retrieved the broken heel and held it up for her to examine. The woman leaned this way and that making disappointed clicks with tongue. “She smashed it well, didn’t she? Ha, and she wonders why she is being banished from the kingdom!”_

_“Wait, who smashed it?” he asked. “I thought it was broken when she ran at the ball.”_

_“No no no, my dear King. That....horrid woman somehow figured out that Ella attended the ball and was the woman you searched for. And for all that she would never set a foot in a dusty place, she climbed up to the attic where Ella was forced to sleep, destroyed some of her things and stole the shoe. And when Ella refused to help her come into the royal household by way of a position within it, she smashed it and locked her away.” The fairy shook her head and small cloud of glitter briefly formed around her. “She wouldn’t let her harm another person she loved, even if it meant never being with you. Not after the Lady forced her father to work himself sick then die on the road far from home.”_

_Unconsciously, Kit cradled the heel piece in both hands, fingers running against the cool glass. More of Ella’s story revealed and his heart only ached further for her. Swallowing around the small lump in his throat. “Can you mend this?” he asked quietly._

_“Well, let’s see. It’s no simple pumpkin turned into golden carriage or goose with golden eggs but I’ll take a shot at it. Thought, um, you may want to put it down somewhere? Best not to risk turning you into a shoe, right?” she winked. He quirked a small smile before putting the heel on a nearby chair. “Alright let’s see, what was it before?,” she muttered to herself, tapping the wand against her chin. “Oh yes! Bippity-boppity-boo!”_

_Another flick of the wrist and Kit watched as several shimmering butterflies danced through lines of bright magic, circling the heel which became upright. Each insect wove into the light and solidified into the entirety of the shoe. The last little one fluttered in and flapped tiny crystal wings a few times before resting on the toe._

_He couldn’t take his eyes off of the newly formed shoe and nearly jumped again as fingers touched his chin as the fairy walked by him. “Gaping mouths catch flies, darling,” she clucked. Picking up the shoe from the box, she gently placed it next to the new one on the chair. “There! A perfect match! I’m better at shoes than I thought.”_

_Kit barely registered that she walked by again but noticed as she headed for the door. “Wait!,” he cried, reaching out for her. She turned and gave pause. “I...thank you,” he breathed, giving her a small bow._

_A bright smile lit up her face. “It is beyond my pleasure, your majesty.”_

_She turned to leave again then spun once more. Taking up his hand, she held it in a firm grip and stared right into his eyes. “Take good care of our girl. She gives of herself so fully and completely. These years have not been kind to her and there is much she has never fully grieved what has been lost to her. She will need someone to be strong for her when at last she remembers.”_

_“I will be her strength always,” he promised firmly. “I not let harm come to her again.”_

_“Hmmm,” the fairy nodded before relinquishing her hold on his hand and patting his cheek fondly. “You have your mother’s eyes, dear Christopher.”_

_Before he could respond, she exited the room and disappeared._

* * *

And there they sat.

Two perfect glass slippers, resting inside the box, awaiting their next turn about the ball room floor.

Ella’s fingers traced edges of the cool glass with fondness. They truly were so very comfortable. “She made the shoes. And the dress from my mother’s gown that they tore and pulled at. The coach was from a pumpkin in the greenhouse. The mice became my horses; the goose my coachman, and two lizards turned into my footmen.” She sighed contemplatively. “If not for her kindness, I never would have made it to the ball.”

“If not for your kindness,” Kit broke in, cradling her cheek, “You would never taken the horse into the woods. If not for your bravery, you would never gone to the ball.” He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “It is all you, Ella. Your love brings magic to all around you.” Their eyes met and she felt her heart stutter. “And as I said before, and will tell you every day until you believe it and even after, I don’t know what I’ve done right to have you but will do everything to keep you.”

* * *

 In the dying candle light, with dark starry skies, the glass slippers glided across the ballroom floor once more to a silent song only the King and future Queen knew. And only when the sun came up did the shoes return to the box.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After so many years of her only having the one shoe, I gave them both to her. Ella deserves a kick ass pair of shoes on her wedding day. 
> 
> Also, this just in: Kit is adorable. Tell your friends.


	8. The Daylight Here, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For all that can be beautiful, wonderful, and right, there is still much darkness and Ella still has her own demons to face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible triggers for the next 2-3 chapters: anxiety attacks, panic attacks, depression, emotional abuse

The days after the engagement celebration passed slowly and quietly. Though the date of the Royal wedding, soon to outshine all other events, crept ever closer, the Royal planners already put ink to paper. Unlike the previous celebration, which occurred with less than a week’s notice, the wedding and all of it’s grandeur lay mapped out in black ink.

And as autumn brought an early freeze, already flowers from hot houses and southern lands received extra care to look their best at Aldany’s palace. A team of seamstresses worked diligently on the bridal gown as well as the dress and coronation robe to be worn by Lady Ella upon the event of being crowned Queen. The city nearby prepared for the influx of visitors while the mansions of Lords and Nobles opened their doors to visiting friends and diplomats.

For her part, Ella dedicated herself all necessary study and education needed. Her parents, she discovered, taught her much of what she initially came across. The tutors praised her excellent manors, quick wit, and gentle smile. One tutor fluttered on endlessly over the smooth beauty of Ella’s handwriting while another insisted she received some kind of formal dancing instruction in her past. Her skills as an equestrian improved with daily rides and the addition of a new white mare to the royal stables; Ella took to calling her Sweet Darling with the stable staff declaring unequivocally to be the horse’s name.

She felt shocked to find that most young women, while taught to read and write, spent less than a fraction of their time with books and preferred socializing to literature. Memories of her mother reading with her long into the night, times under the shade of great trees picking through poetry; in a way, she felt sad for those without such experiences. Privately, she endeavored to encourage reading especially books on fairy tales and fantastic worlds with imaginary creatures.

History and politics became the focus of her tutelage - dates of wars and treaties, relationships with bordering nations and those far away, trade routes with all the imports and exports, which royal married what family and how it affected Aldany’s alliances. While initially overwhelming, Ella found the information fascinating, often asking many questions so she best understood.

With reports to the King of her enthusiasm and fast progression, after two weeks of study, she found herself sitting in on privy council sessions, meetings with diplomats, and spending time with each of the ministers to see firsthand their responsibilities. When asked of her opinion, she spoke clearly and with conviction, often times providing the necessary balance of idealism and common sense needed especially when something ended up in debate. The privy council found her to be intelligent and understanding, thanking her often for her advice and, even more than they realized, in turn heading that advice.

Soon Ella’s days filled up with the daily workings of the palace - council meetings, luncheons and teas with different groups, attending performances of dance and music, even trips into the city where she purchased items from the market and vendors. Concerns regarding her safety quickly vanished as both King’s Guard and soldiers volunteered to attend the Lady when she ventured out.

Still new to his position as King, Kit spent most of his days wrapped up with daily matters of state and remained at the palace. Though he desired to join Ella on her trips, time and needs of the people prevented him from doing so. Her absence ached within him along with the nagging concern of anything happening to her. But, as he came to realize, she returned every day, often leaving some small memento on his desk - a feather, a flower, a single wheat stalk, and one time, a small white pumpkin with orange and green speckles. He cherished these daily reminders, eyes often moving back to gaze upon them as he finished up his day and met with her again for evening meals.

But with all good and sweet things, sadness and meanness still found ways to creep in with dark tentacles, intending to harm and corrupt. And for those with fragile hearts, even the smallest word can do the worst of harm.

* * *

Truthfully, with all of the comings and goings Ella now participated in, Kit thought nothing of her request.

“Your highness,” Louisa spoke in a soft, reverent tone. After his acknowledgement, she continued, “The Lady Ella respectfully and reluctantly ask permission to be excused from the luncheon this afternoon. She has been riding for this long morning and is much exhausted.”

Suppressing mild disappointment, he nodded with an understanding smile, “Send the Lady Ella our regards and that we wish her to be well for later tonight.” The soft smile on Louisa’s face seemed to tighten ever so slightly but she curtsied and left without another word. Her expression nagged slightly in the back of his mind through the rest of the afternoon. In addition to a strange and sad feeling that set in, laying just over his heart and lightly tensing his chest.

* * *

“Is the Lady Ella ready?” Kit asked to his returning groomsman. Dinner required evening clothes so while he returned from his last meetings to change, he sent one of his men ahead to check on her. It felt as if additional hours got tacked onto today with those thoughts and sensations just lingering, poking at him and diverting his attention.

A pregnant pause filled the room causing him to turn and witness the man attempt to school his face into something neutral. “What is it?”

“Your majesty, the Lady Ella," he spoke in a worried tone, making Kit that much more alert and that sensation now pounding in his chest. "She sends her regrets once more and begs your forgiveness for not being in attendance at dinner this evening. She continues to suffer from exhaustion and does not feel fit to attend--”

The groomsman stopped abruptly as Kit roughly pushed his arm through the last free sleeve then walked swiftly past him. The man assisting with his clothes gave chase long enough to hook one last loop over a button before standing away as the King left the room. “Is she alright?” he asked, picking up the day jacket that slipped to the floor in the mild commotion.

“Her lady’s maid told me she was in need of further rest, not injured in anyway.” He picked the rest of the items and followed his friend to replace them in the wardrobe. “But I tell you, I heard something, faint as a feather, that sounded much like crying...”

* * *

“You must try to take something, my lady. Here,” the young woman knelt down on the floor, offering a crystal goblet. “Cool water will help.” But the tremor of her lady’s hand meant she held tighter, angling the glass for her to drink without spilling over. She felt the hard gulps against the cup and felt mild satisfaction at the water being entirely consumed. “There,” she approved to herself quietly. This marked the first thing she took in since a small breakfast this morning.

All seemed quiet for a few moments, the long day taking a pause with that refreshing drink. Only for a brief time though. For soon, her Lady’s body began to shake and the now familiar trails on her cheeks once more filled with a slow stream of tears. Weak whimpers and choked sobs rattled through her unconsciously.She looked up to Louisa, distress coloring her features.

“Thank you, Dayaa,” Louisa nodded in hushed tones. Dayaa moved to replace the goblet by the pitcher when both she and Louisa heard the noise from beyond the closed door. Raised voices but not yelling. The voice of the King from great room or even the bedroom. They shared a look before Louisa mouthed silently, _“He’ll find out now anyway.”_

For hours, they managed to keep with the Lady’s request that the King not be disturbed by her distress. But with Louisa’s nod, the younger woman walked swiftly across the room, the loose length of her yellow and gold sari flickering behind her. As she exited the room, she turned and shut the door panel as silently as possible. From just beyond the large wooden doors, the crying was barely audible. Dayaa rubbed her hands together nervously as she continued towards the main chambers of her Lady’s suite, weaving through several other doorways before reaching the great room. Though she knew it to be impossible, she swore she could still hear the faint sobs of Lady Ella through the many walls.

* * *

“Where is she?” The handmaiden bowed more of out anxiety than respect and Kit felt his blood pressure ratchet up just that much more. Anxiety gnawed at his bones in the worse way. “The Lady Ella is not sleeping, is she?”

“No, your majesty, but she is resting,” the woman replied, keeping her eyes averted. “She took to bed after riding for so long this morning.”

He felt further words of frustration begin on his lips but they stopped abruptly as another woman entered. With charcoal black hair that flipped against her bright yellow dress, she almost appeared a blur until she stopped a few feet before him and dipped a respectful curtsy.

“Your majesty. The Lady Ella is indisposed,” she spoke in a soft deep voice before her eyes met his. “If you will follow me,” she said with a questioning tone, her body angled towards the doorway she came through. Kit nodded and gestured for her to lead on.

They passed through multiple rooms - the bedroom, her dressing chamber, a small dining area, a study - both of them stone silent. Even as they passed windows that opened out onto the busy areas of the palace grounds, the noise seemed to stop at the glass panes. That only made the sound of weeping that much louder to his ears.

Unconsciously, he picked up his pace as did the woman leading the way.

Presently, they passed into a room that appeared to have only the entrance they passed through. His confusion gave way to mild shock as the woman walked up to the wall and reached for a piece of the molding. It moved away to reveal a door handle and he felt a fool to forget the many hidden rooms the palace held. His thoughts on his forgetfulness dissolved instantly when the panel door opened and the crying amplified. Kit barely noticed as she stepped just beyond the door and aside as he rushed past.

The thick carpet muffled his boots as he came to a stop.

He beheld the Lady’s maid named Louisa as she stood at the end of a chaise lounge. Her head dipped in respect but she did not curtsy; presently her arms were full, wrapped about Ella’s shaking shoulders. Ella faced away towards a long window, one arm about Louisa’s waist and the other pressed to her face. A few seconds of shocked assessment and he approached them slowly.

As he circled around the pair, he took in the sight in even more detail.

Ella still wore her riding dress but her hat, veil, shoes, and stockings sat abandoned on a nearby chair. The tight braid of golden curls rested over her shoulder, fly away pieces shaking with her motion. Handkerchiefs littered the empty space on the chaise with one clenched tightly in her small hand as she pressed it to her face. Streams of tears glimmered as the dying light of the sun streamed in. Her eyes appeared puffy and tender, her nose red and wet. Her hoarse sobs and almost collapsed position against Louisa added up to a fact that stabbed at him horribly: Ella spent many hours in tears. And he never knew.

Kit knelt down before her, pausing a moment before pressing a gentle hand to her knee. When her eyes, bloodshot and raw, met his own, filled with concern and sadness, it seemed to revive her strength enough for the crying to worsen, fresh pain tearing through her small body. Her hand dropped away from her face and she pressed her closed fist against the top of his hand as she leaned forward in a vain attempt to stop crying. He wrapped up her hand in his own and held it to his chest. “Ella?”

Louisa stepped forward to keep her hold but as Ella pulled her hand from his only to reach out and wrap her arm about his shoulders, Kit nodded and took her into his arms. Her slight weight sagged against him, her shoulders still shaking and tense. Shifting his free arm beneath her knees, he rose up from the floor with her cradled to his chest. Louisa cleared away the linens and positioned a pillow against the corner where Kit came to sit. Ella shifted in his hold, one arm around his waist while the other rested against his chest, her freed hand clutching at his lapel. Kit rocked her slightly, feeling the tremors slow and decrease in intensity. Brushing away the stray hairs from her face, he cradled her cheek and pressed gentle kisses to her hot forehead and temple. She tucked her head into the curve of his neck and took gulping deep breaths as they continued to sway gently. When he caught Louisa questioning gaze, she nodded before moving to a desk nearby and scratching out a quick message on a piece of paper.

When she handed him the slip, he felt his stomach turn to lead and he pulled Ella just that much closer:

_She rode out to her family home to see it._

_Those women haven’t left yet._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I firstly want to thank everyone for your incredible reviews, messages of support and all around awesomeness. And thank you for being so patient as I went away this weekend for some fresh sea air down at the beach. Keep on being crazy wonderful, all of you!
> 
> This particular storyline with probably be the darkest of what will be written here. As it stands, I want to keep the up-beat fairy tale love going strong but I don't think I would be happy not addressing the possible and very real consequences of Ella's life under Lady Tremaine's abuse. Even the best of us can be torn apart and left to pick up pieces. And despite how often this happens, very few know how to address people in crisis appropriately.
> 
> I will be drawing on my own experiences with severe anxiety, panic attacks, depression and emotional abuse levied by family members. If you do not feel comfortable reading these chapters, I understand and hope you enjoy the rest of the story.


	9. The Daylight Here, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella learns the hardest part of moving on is realizing that not everyone will.  
> Kit finds use of a very old tradition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When gone I have sworn to worry not  
> Satisfaction, justice or the will of God  
> I'm not sure there's any difference in the three  
> Whatever the conscious decrees,  
> Hope we both feel right.
> 
> -"The Daylight Here" by My Terrible Friend

Sweet Darling stomped her front hooves impatiently, eager to get out of the full stables. Since before dawn, the groomers brushed and combed her, fitting her with saddle, bit, and bridle, pulling her away from her oats and carrots to check and recheck before the Lady Ella came down to ride. Her impatient whinnying caught the ear of the other horses; shortly, they all began to move about restlessly. The horse went to neigh, louder and with more frustration, when soft gloves moved across her neck and jaw in firm and relaxing strokes.

“Good morning, Sweet Darling,” Ella spoke, leaning her temple against Darling’s as she hugged her neck quickly. “Just as excited to get out into this beautiful morning as well?” The horse tossed her mane gently, inciting a laugh from her mistress whom fished an apple out of one deep pocket and offered it to Darling. Ella wore a riding dress and cloak in emerald green with pale orange fur trimming the collar. A beret-style hat trailed a creamy sheer veil that danced about when she moved. Once Darling finished chewing, she whinnied softly and nudged against Ella’s arm.

“Alright then,” the lady whispered. “Shall we take to the roads?”

The groomsman assisted Ella into her saddle, handing up the reigns before gently tugging the bridle to guide an annoyed Darling out of the stables. After a few short jerking tugs away from the man’s hand, Darling shook out her head again. “She wants no guide today, m’lady,” the groomsman stated warily. “May not be the best for the ride today.”

“I’ll guide her gently, then,” Ella responded kindly. “I know your worry but we’ve been riding together now for two weeks. She just needs the fresh air and a good gallop.” The groomsman bowed respectfully and stepped aside. Darling felt the slight tug on the reigns, a gentle motion guiding her to turn around. Her hooves clapped loudly against the dirt as she spun and restlessly trotted to the door.

Winter stretched long fingers into the early autumn, making Darling’s breaths rush like unruly waves unto the cold air. And while the change from the crowded stables into the outdoors made to invigorate her, a calm came over the animal and she stood patiently with her rider, watching as several ladies-in-waiting mounted their own steeds.

“We’ve already taken the coastal roads to the docks this week, my Lady,” reminded Dayaa, wrapped up in a thick brown cloak stitched with intricate golden flower designs. Beneath the cover, she wore a sunny yellow sari that peaked out from the robe when she moved. “Where shall we go today?”

Ella cocked her head as she gazed down the road, pondering momentarily before turning back to the small crowd of ladies. The accompaniment of guards took up either side of their party, all ready to journey with her. She smiled to herself before speaking, “It has been a while since last I saw my family’s home. I’ve been told men are working to repair it and ready it for winter. I should like to ride there today.”

Dayaa smiled brightly, “You speak so fondly of it, my lady. It will be a pleasure to see it with you.” She then nodded to the guard nearest her who gave quick shouts of instruction.  
  
Heart full with the prospect of seeing her beloved home, Ella gave a short kick to Darling’s sides and held on tightly as powerful legs found purchase on the smoothed dirt road. The party rode down the avenue, waving to all up and in the midst of their morning work, before passing the gate and turning out onto the long road down through the forest.

* * *

By horseback, the journey from the mansion to the city took anywhere from 1 to 2 hours. Ella knew the route after so many years of almost daily rides to fetch this lace or that perfume or those shoes. Her given excitement spurred on happy conversation, laughing, and joking around; the time flew by with little notice. Their horses kicked up the now golden and auburn leaves that tumbled from the heights of tall trees, dandelion fluffs floating in the cool air danced about as they passed.  
  
As they rounded the last bend, Ella saw a veritable small army of men at work. They bowed respectfully as she went by, returning her cheerful “Good morning!”. The familiar fence line that spent so long covered in both old and new vines stood cleared and painted anew in black. Lanterns atop the stone pillars shined with polished brass in the sunlight. Her heart pounded with happiness when she rode up the newly repaired path, no longer needing to pick her way around broken or loose stones.  
  
Her mother’s fountain, now cleared of the dying ivy vines and weeds, shot water up clear into the sky before falling in a cheerful patter against the repaired stone and mason work. Several scaffolds stood up against the front of the building with men bringing up new shingles and wood beams, buckets of paint to correct chipping paint around the windows, and pails of soapy water to clean the stone.  
  
Tears prickled the corner of her eyes as she though of Kit’s promise to restore the house to glory for her.  
  
A gentleman in fine clothes of brown and green came from the open front doors and bowed to her as Darling walked the circle towards him. He wore a low pony tale of well kept graying hair and fine wrinkles at the corners of his lips. “Good morning, my Lady,” he called cheerfully, the cool air adding rosy coloring to his pale brown skin. “I am Mister Thurston Kalmyer, architect and master craftsman for his Royal Highness,” he continued, dipping a bow.  
  
“Mr. Thurston, I can hardly begin to express my joy over what you and your men have done! My family’s home looks completely anew!” Ella smiled brightly. “You have worked magic here and it is my honor to have your talents to thank.” Mr. Thurston bowed again as did several of the men not currently in a precarious position on the roof. A groom dismounted next to her and assisted to hand her down to the path. She extended her hand to Thurston and shook it thoroughly. “My many thanks for such wonders.”

“Your praise gives me the greatest joy,” he declared as he gestured towards the side gardens. Ella and several of her ladies followed as the Master Craftsman displayed all of the work completed so far on the property including a new greenhouse after the old one ‘mysteriously’ shattered. “Most likely during a storm,” he shrugged, not noticing the grin Ella hid behind her gloved hand. The terrace and gardens resembled their former beauty: slate and stone replaced, hinges on doors and gates replaced, the thick pricker brushes that stung at her hands near the old flower patch now trimmed away with roots removed. Plow tracks showed freshly tilled soil where a new vegetable garden planned to take root come spring.  
  
“At the King’s request and design, we also added several new features for your garden,” he reviewed as he directed her gaze towards a stone gazebo with wrought iron vines climbing up the sides and across the open roof. A new fountain with a fairy at the top, water springing forth from her hands, marked the beginning of a new pathway. Or rather, stones laid out anew over a well trod trail.  
  
“Does this lead down to the pond?” she asked quietly.  
  
“Yes, my lady. To which his Majesty requested the area be kept and tended to regularly. We finished installing the all the desire items yesterday. Would your Ladyship care to look?”  
  
“Yes,” she breathed, loosing a delicate sigh as she responded. “I would love to see.”

* * *

A pink stone pillar with carved flowers and a small butterfly atop. Ella always believed her mother approved of her husband and daughter’s choice in her grave marker. Even as the years passed and their visits became less frequent, she made sure to come down and remove the debris of fallen leaves and tree branches, to trim back the long grass and provide flowers for small stone vase at the base.  
  
Distant golden memories seemed to glitter upon the rippling pond as she rested on one of the new stone benches placed here. She smiled down at the small circle of stones pressed into the ground to create a walking area complete with iron grotto that came up and over the marker. Made of the same metal leaves as the gazebo, the light filtered through the shapes and created the illusion of lush leaves even as the actual ones flittered down with the slightest breeze. She noticed rose bushes planted around the marker in preparation for the winter freeze as well as a semicircle of small trees nearby.  
  
“You think of everything, my dear Kit,” she spoke softly aloud, running a hand along the edge of the bench. Her eyes rose up to the stone bearing her mother’s name. “You would love him, mother. He reminds me of father in way, so thoughtful and caring. He remembers little things like furs to keep me warm, what flowers I like best, how to make me smile even when I’m confused or frustrated.” Her vision misted as she continued, “I wish you could have met him. Even more, that you would be here for our wedding and someday, your grandchildren.”  
  
_Long golden curls with stunning blue eyes._  
_The joyful laughter of children and small feet running on the floor._  
_Kit’s smiling face as he cradles a small bundle in his arms, pressing kisses to a small tuft of downy hair._  
  
“I know you will watch over me still. But know that I have found someone who...loves me. Despite all that has happened and how hard it can be.” A soft watery laugh escaped her. “He really does love me. He showers me with praise and gifts, he talks of how he longs for my company while we are apart. I feel this warmth in my heart when he simply looks at me and it grows when he holds my hand or we kiss. And everyday, I hope to only bring him happiness, never sadness or darkness.” Pulling out a handkerchief, she wiped at the small tears tumbling down her cheek and laughed to herself again. Standing from the bench, she walked over and touched the rosy stone reverently. “I’ll bring you chrysanthemums in the yellow when I come again. You always loved yellow.”  
  
Ella made her way up the path, enjoying the cheerful song of birds that darted in and out of the falling leaves. A cold breeze passed, causing her to pull up her collar a bit more and the soft fur to brush her skin in the most delightful way. It reminded her of their walk in the garden last night, under the paleness of a waning moon. A soft blush stained her cheeks.

* * *

“ _Here,” Kit smiled as he tugged at the edges of her thick stole, his fingers tracing delicate lines on her cheeks. “The nights are getting colder,” he explained in voice that trailed off breathlessly. Though the moon’s light cast only faint, pale beams onto the tree lined path, as Ella drew close to him, she clearly saw his pupils so dilated that the bright ring of blue glowed in the darkness._  
  
_Within a moment, they moved from the visible path to the privacy of a stone arbor still thick with ivy leaves. Her hands scrambled for any solid purchase and eventually settled on holding his hips as they pressed close again and again. It was no battle for dominance or control; both of them simply desperate to hold and touch the other, to share breath and kiss until all else faded away. Both of them explored, cautious but oh so very eager. Ella let these moments stamp in her memory like a red-hot brand, new and thrilling, promising so much more. Thoughts of how she wished to strip away their clothing and hold their bared bodies so close...these thoughts she barely registered in her life before without violent blushing and heat now returned as Kit’s hands continued to feel and mold the shape of her body, as if memorizing her form._  
  
_They lost track of time until the city clock chimed ten times, breaking their own spell. As they stood apart, adjusting various pieces of askew clothing, their eyes met and they laughed nervously. She stepped into his open arms and sighed happily in the embrace as he kissed her temple._  
  
_Very little needed to be spoken at these moments, she found. But all things culminated in one specific thought that brought about both anxious feelings and giddy delight: Ella could not wait for their wedding day._

* * *

“Look at this! Blush on the cheeks, wrapped up in new furs and finery?” Ella snapped back from her memory and found herself at the rear of the house, coming off the path and to the terrace. The plummy voice came from Anastasia Tremaine whom stood just beyond near a cart that appeared to be partially filled with trunks and household furniture. Hands braced on her hips, toe tapping from beneath a ghastly bright green dress, she appeared the very image of childish annoyance as her curls bounced around from where she pinned them. She snapped her fingers towards Ella and seethed, “Must be wonderful, hmm? To have the whole world and all of it’s goodies at your fingertips now, huh, Ella?”  
  
She stomped across the space separating them and got directly in Ella’s face. “How fast did the King have on your back? Did you even wait to get to the palace or did he simply lift your dirty servant’s skirts and take you in the carriage over?”  
  
Ella sputtered as she stepped back, wiping away the spittle sprayed on her face. “What are you talking about?” she started in confusion.  
  
“Oh, don’t be so stupid, Ella. The whole kingdom knows!,” Drusilla barked as she rushed in from seemingly out of no where. Her hand grabbed at Ella’s coat and tugged, eyes flashing with envy. She slapped Ella’s arm hard enough to cause an ache. “The house, the art, even most of the furniture are staying because the King ordered it to be so. Why would he even care about a stupid little country house like this if you didn’t beg him to do so? You...you whored yourself out to him, didn’t you? Gave him what he wanted so you could get revenge on us?”

Ella tried to break in but Anastasia jumped in immediately, pointing her finger so close it nearly touched Ella’s nose. “Fur riding coats, new horse, jewels -- I’d lay money that you’re already carrying his bastard child, aren’t you?”  
  
“How dare you,” Ella finally managed, stepping forward with a firm step making both of the sisters hop back in shock. “The King has shown me kindness out of his love for me, nothing more. I did not ask him to do any of these things. It is gift that he honors my family’s legacy by doing so much.”  
  
“We’re your family, Ella,” Drusilla cut in angrily, “We’re your sisters! And because you love us so much, we’ve been banished to some God forsaken land in the north! Eternal winters, freezing air -- you’ve sentenced us to destitution and death, you terrible, ungrateful creature!”  
  
“You know, our mother didn’t have to keep you here after your fool of a father got sick and died on the road! She is mistress of the house, she was his wife, and there is no law that said a child not related to her by blood had to stay. She kept you out of pity! Made sure you had a home, a roof over your head, food in your belly. And at the first chance, you snatched it all away from her, from us!” Anastasia huffed a deep breath after her tirade. She clearly did not see the outrage burning in Ella’s eyes as she continued, “Your father left us without a gold coin to protect us and all of this came from our mother’s monies. He died just as stupidly as your mother, running around in her bare feet, acting like some...some...fairy whore! I guess the apple never falls far from the tree--”  
  
“Enough!” Ella cried, angry tears streaming down her face. Her chest heaved with hard breaths, the sound ripping at the now silent area around them. Not the sound of a hammer or nail, not a single bird sang. “Your mother stole from my family, stole what was rightfully left to me. I would have happily shared, kept you here and called you sisters! But you took everything of joy from me and treated me like a slave. You teased me, threw things at me, slapped me when you knew I would never strike back and say such things to you. When he told me just how far your mother’s crimes went, I asked him to show mercy! Your mother could have been thrown into prison and you left without her or a thing in the world. I don’t want you to lose your mother like I lost mine!”  
  
“Do you not see? This is not because of me, or the King, or my father’s death. This is what happens when you are cruel, when you abuse those who would love you. This is the price -- you are left alone, without friends, without help. But you don’t see it, do you? Neither one of you have even smallest idea of what you and your mother have done?” Ella asked, her words choked on sobs caught beneath her breastbone. “You made your choices and now you suffer the consequences. Had you been kind or shown love or mercy, this would not be the way.”  
  
Ella barely reacted as hands gently grasped at her arms, a gentle embrace from behind her. Tears flooded her vision as grief, anger, and the darkness of prior years escaped from that sad place she pushed them into before. When another pair of arms braced around her, she nearly collapsed into the hold, barely able to stand under her own power.  
  
The sisters stood before her, admonished and partially stunned from her outburst, but none the better for it. Drusilla crossed her arms and harumphed in a childlike manor, casting her glare down towards the stone. Anastasia looked more annoyed with being upbraided than aware of her actions.  
  
It crushed Ella. Nothing could be said or done to change their ways. Their anger and greed, vanity and pride -- cursed forever to bear them and suffer the consequences.  
  
“I am so sorry for you both. And for your mother,” she whispered, body aching with the strain of tears.

After she finished speaking, Dayaa and another handmaiden swiftly her back to Sweet Darling. She faintly heard Mr. Thurston directing the guards to confine the women to their room until he summoned the Captain of the King’s Guard. Off even further, she registered the shrill voice of Lady Tremaine, demanding to know what happened and screaming she and her daughters were being falsely imprisoned in their own home.  
  
“Can you ride, my lady? We can bring the carriage,” Dayaa offered, brushing the hair that came loose from under her hat away from her face. “It won’t take long from the palace.”  
  
Ella shook her head almost violently. “No, please don’t...I--I can ride,” she stuttered out weakly. “The--the King...I don’t want him dis-disturbed by this. He will not--please don’t tell him. I just need...I need home.” She breathed the last word as new sobs wracked her body. Darling remained unusually still as Ella leaned against her and tried to control her emotions. Concern flickered across the deep colors of the horse’s eyes.  
  
She stood before the place her heart still called home and now chose to ride away from it. Am I a coward? Cannot I not move forward and reclaim this place? I don’t want to fight, I just want to stop crying. I want this hurt, this ache to stop.  
  
Once seated on Darling’s saddle, she glanced up though the veil that flickered around her face and saw Lady Tremaine glaring down from a window. Ella straightened her back and with strength and courage that fought their way through her tears, she stared right back at her.  
  
_This is my home. You will not take it from me. You will not harm me ever again._  
  
Darling took Ella’s gentle kick as the highest incentive and carried her away at a near gallop. And as fresh tears arose, old wounds finally seeing the light, Ella couldn’t help the small sensation in her mind, almost as if she finally started to move forward.

* * *

Curls of steam rose up from the teacup before being gently chased away by Ella’s breath. The spicy flavor of bergamot filled her nostrils then mouth as she sipped her tea in sluggish pulls. Warmth washed over her raw throat and dry mouth, soothing as it slid down into her empty stomach. Briefly her belly cramped from lack of food but the tea took its effect and she relaxed even more into Kit’s arms. He stretched on the chaise with Ella seated between his legs, his warmer feet pressed against her cooler ones.  
  
Deep purples and pinks from the late sunset cast a colorful glow upon the room as well as the flames flickering up in the large fireplace. Dayaa periodically came from the other room to check and tend the fire for them, her demeanor greatly calmed and gaze tender when she looked upon a quieted Ella. Beyond the window, horses neighed and people chatted on their way, the day’s work completed and the coming night promising rest and sleep.

Kit ran tender fingers through Ella’s loosened tresses, the braid long since undone by Louisa to make her more comfortable. The rhythm of her breathing now matched his own and they rose and fell together from this position. He traced butterfly kisses across her hairline and smiled as her eyes fluttered shut, full pink lips loosing a content sigh.  
  
But his own relaxation remained tempered. Greatly tempered.  
  
It took much coaxing and near pleading for Ella to tell him what happened. Emotions overwhelmed her several times and she nearly retched from the force. Kit never witnessed such powerful emotion in anyone and felt panicked as he tried to calm her. He remembered his promise to bestow gifts upon Louisa and Dayaa for their grace and poise in bringing Ella back to herself with soft words and kind touch.  
  
A deep seated anger burned low and strong with regards to his love’s life before she came here. Those glowing coals received fresh breath to flame anew when she choked out the seething vitriol of those wretched women. And as he traced soothing circles on her shoulder, her body lax and vulnerable in his hold, he silently promised for a stronger, swifter justice. No one, not even those who claim familial relations, should get away with these actions.  
  
The bells tolled to mark 6 o’clock, the sky now an inky swirl of blue and black with stars twinkling out in the great void of the sky. Ella’s eyes opened and she stared out blankly for a moment before peering up at him. It seemed as if a crystal shine coated those pale orbs and glistened beautifully as she smiled for the first time with him. Leaning forward, they kissed ever so softly and she sighed again.  
  
“Thank you,” she whispered.  
  
“No, thank you,” he returned, running his hand up her cheek and through her hair again. “Thank you for honor of having you in my life. For trusting me to care for you and letting me in when you’ve suffered so much. How anyone can trust again after these things, let alone forgive those who did them to you, I cannot fathom.” He pressed their foreheads together before continuing, “You are a far stronger and greater person than I, Ella. And it is my infinite pleasure and joy to be a part of your life. Even when you’re crying and upset.” He finished as she made to say something self-deprecating about today.  
  
She leaned back with a ponderous expression. “I do not know if I am strong or great, my love. But for the first time since my father died, instead of faint fog or glow about my thoughts, I can think clearly and see my hopes and my dreams as definite as I see you. I still hurt,” she swallowed, a barely visible line of tears in her eyes, “But having heard such terrible things and realizing not only do they not want to be helped or to change but that they don’t feel they are even wrong in what they do...it is both terrible and great revelation. And I cannot endeavor any more of my time, my life, my energy in vain for them to see. They refuse to and I will not keep myself in this terrible sphere of cruelty and darkness even in my mind. I have forgiven them and I can move on and be free.”  
  
Kit stared at her, an unreadable expression in his eyes. “I could live a thousand years and never have such insight. You truly are the blessed and magical person I have ever met,” he admitted quietly, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles. “It begs the question of how am I so blessed to have your love?”  
  
“Simple. You took as I am and asked for nothing more.” She brushed her lips against his as she whispered, “And I could not imagine a greater sign of love than that.”

* * *

The gentle candlelight of the great room shone down in a thick stream through the ajar door. Kit peeked in curiously and felt himself much calmed at the site before him. The firelight in the room cast Ella, curled up beneath blankets and furs, in the colors of burnished gold. All of the pain and crying from the day now gone, a soft smile settling over her sleeping face.  
  
She ate very little but at least took food with him at her side. Her ladies suggested a warm herbal bath with a sleeping blend that Kit knew well from his rowdy days as a child. They parted after a long goodnight, her to relax in a bath, he to hold a late meeting with his ministers whom they originally intended to dine with this evening.  
  
With Louisa sitting in a large chair nearby, the faint clack of knitting needles barely audible over the crack and soft hiss of the fire, he felt secure that should she need him, she would send word. With a last long glance, he guided the door closed, silently releasing the handle for it to click into place.  
  
Turning, he nodded to her handmaidens in the room as they dipped curtsies when he passed. Once he exited the suite, he went immediately to his council chambers where Lord Rowen waited with several papers on the table.  
  
“How does the Lady fair?” the captain asked, many years of knowing the King proving it best to address this first. “Does she rest now?”  
  
“Yes, and after what happened today, I would not fault her for sleeping until the wedding,” Kit responded, his voice sharp as a blade. “Did you get the report?”  
  
“Several actually. Including the fact that all three women were removed from the upstairs after they attempted to smash open a window with a hair brush then once again removed from the cellar after they tried to start a fire in an old fireplace and the flue was not open. They are now being kept in the attic with a guard in place to prevent any further issues.”  
  
Kit made a disgusted noise and shook his head before taking the report from Rowen. Though not in as much detail, the guards, the workers, his Master Craftsman and ladies reported the events the same as Ella. He did not doubt her, honesty in the very fibre of her being. Having a report corroborating her own did serve to mete out justice for legal purposes. It meant more witnesses to the fact should a court need to be convened. It took much restraint on his part not to call for immediate imprisonment of the women, throw them in the darkest cell and leave them there forever. Especially as he thought of one of them striking her, no matter if it didn’t leave a bruise.  
  
“I would recommend immediate imprisonment for all of them, the Lady Tremaine to be placed in solitary confinement until a trial is completed,” the Captain said, shuffling through several other papers.  
  
“No.” Lord Rowen looked up to see a bitter expression on his King’s face. “Trials mean delays, that they be housed and cared for here. Our land states these women, unless tried for murder or regicide, can remain in the house until the trial is completed. And I want them out immediately. That is Ella’s family home, not theirs, and since they’ve proven they will attempt to destroy it, they are unfit to stay there any further.” He leaned forward, bracing his hands on the edge of the table. “Ella doesn’t want them physically harmed and I want to respect her wishes on this matter. But beyond banishment, what can be done?” A frustrated silence filled the air before Rowan cleared his throat, a mischievous look in his eye.  
  
“May I suggest we speak to Lord Bahari, your majesty?”  
  
Kit quirked an eyebrow, “The Admiral of the Royal Navy?”  
  
Rowen nodded, “Yes, sire. Are you familiar with the term ‘black spot’?”

* * *

Lord Bahari gladly accepted the glass of wine and slugged it down in one gulp. Replacing the cup on the servant’s tray, he sat a moment before giving a solidly blank look at his friend, the Captain of the Guard, and his monarch. “You understand what this means, your majesty?” he asked, his deep baritone booming even though he spoke quietly. “Casting a black spot on someone, any one, is by no means a small measure.”  
  
“Can it be done?” the King asked, curiosity ringing in his voice. “I’ve heard it theoretically but is there a way--”  
  
“Of course, your majesty. People speak of it in terms of the lore of the Sea, Davy Jones locker and such but a black spot...well, it is quite real and quite damaging.” Bahari leaned forward in his chair in a conspiratorial fashion. “May I ask what the intended persons have done to receive this?”  
  
“Struck the future Queen, insulted her, attempted to destroy her home, and committed treason by purposely disregarding a royal edict,” Rowan listed, stopping when Bahari put a hand on his friend’s forearm.  
  
“They struck the Lady Sauveterre?” he asked in a dangerous tone. “They should have been lashed to a tree, whipped, and their hand cut off for such actions. Any one who did such a thing to my wife or daughter wouldn’t see the light of day again.” He nodded to himself before spreading his hands out in an agreeing gesture. “It is a royal proclamation so we will need your Majesty’s signature. I can tell you how the last one was written in the kingdom of Maulua. Ugly business then as well and that involved the niece of the Emperor, not his future bride. But understand, once this is sent out, there will be no turning back.”  
  
The King extended his hand and shook Bahari’s with a firm grasp. “I don’t want there to be a way back.” The three men shared a devious look about them before Bahari loosed a deep laugh.  
  
“In that case, my King, let me send for my man to go down to the docks. This can be resolved by dawn.”

* * *

In the end, no one lost their hands, got lashed to a tree and whipped, or even slapped on the hand.  
  
In the end, two carts pulled away from the Sauveterre Mansion, one carrying several trunks, the other carrying three women, and made their way to the docks in the early hours of the morning. A small vessel, loaded with freshly tanned leathers, took aboard three miserable and tired women bound for the northern Kingdom of Valundan. A finely dressed member of Aldany’s royal navy delivered several letters including a small satchel filled with folded letters wrapped in black ribbon, pressed with black wax bearing the royal seal.  
  
The captain of the ship immediately opened the one addressed to him and read through with shock plain on his face:

 ** _To the Captain of the Miranda Marie,_**  
  
**_His Royal Highness, Christopher, King of Aldany, hear by proclaims that the Ladies Marguerite Tremaine, Anastasia Tremaine, and Drusilla Tremaine, are banished from the Kingdom of Aldany, as are their descendants for eternity._**  
  
**_Henceforth, it is to be known that any and all families, houses, institutions, merchants, businesses or companies that attempt to assist this family shall be on unfamiliar terms with the Kingdom of Aldany. Any contract or agreements will be severed and considered void. Kings of the Lands will receive a royal transcribe of these events within the month._**  
  
**_Upon the completion of this transportation, the Miranda Marie will also be considered within these groups._**  
  
**_Additional payment for the late and hurried delivery of cargo as well as compensation for any time lost on the sea will be provided under His Majesty’s instruction._**  
  
**_These letters are to be delivered per oceanic courier service provided by the Miranda Marie and fellow vessels. Compensation will be provided for these services._**  
  
**_This is the word of the King and so it is law._**  
  
**_Christopher, King of Aldany_**  
  
**_Lord Amadi Bahari_**  
**_Admiral of the Royal Navy of Aldany_**

A low bickering between the two younger women brought the older one to rage loudly that she would soon toss them overboard if they didn’t shut up. One of his crew directed them down below to ‘private quarters’ which truthfully meant sleeping on the opposite side of cargo boxes from the men. As their voices grew in pitch and irritation, the captain realized this potentially would be the longest journey he undertook but not without compensation for his woes.  
  
“Somethin’ amiss, capt’n?” one of his older deckhands inquired. When he flipped the letter over, the site of the black wax and ribbon made his white bushy eyebrows shoot up into his leathery tanned forehead. The deckhand let out a low whistle. “ ‘taint seen a spot in so long, have we capt’n?”  
  
“No, not in many years. And this one from Aldany and from the King no less. Never heard of one coming from this land before let alone from that high up.”  
  
“Those birds must have done somethin’ mighty bad to earn it.” The captain nodded firmly in agreement. “I wonder if it had somethin’ to do with what the soldiers on the dock spoke about today, sir.”  
  
“What fresh gossip did the dockhands bring us?” The captain asked as they went towards the stern and the ship’s wheel.  
  
“Well sir, I heard from the docks that somethin’ happened to the Lady of the Glass Shoe. The one the King t’marry? Well, the soldiers says to me..."

* * *

When Ella woke the next morning, later than usual, the sun streamed in cheerfully across her room. Beyond her door, the faint conversation and soft mouthwatering smell of food beckoned her to rise up. She lay for a moment, contemplating all that occurred yesterday. Throat still sore, eyes gritty with dried tears, stomach rumbling in want of food -- it felt surreal. And though she relaxed into a swirl of calming herbs and bubbles that lead her into a peacefully dreamless sleep, she suspected Kit did not do so himself. His protective nature with her surely brought about some change in the destiny of the three ladies Tremaine. Strings of sadness tugged at her briefly before she took a deep breath. When she exhaled, she let the sad thoughts drift out with the breath, leaving her lighter than before.

She looked off to her side and blinked at site before a smile spread across her face. Sitting on a bedside table was a large bouquet wrapped in ribbons of Aldany's colors - a full, lush bouquet of bright yellow flowering chrysanthemums.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6,000 WORDS. 12 PAGES. 4 DAYS TO WRITE.  
> HOLY CRAP, MY HANDS HURT.  
> But you know what? Between the awesome messages and the kudos, TOTALLY WORTH IT. 
> 
> So that will be the conclusion of this small part of the whole. We have a few more sad bits here and there but really, I wanted Ella to have this time to just grieve. You can't move forward from something until you've grieved it in someway. 
> 
> That being said, for everyone kindly, nicely, wonderfully asking for SMUT, I want to say formally that yes, there will be a rating change in the near future for smut. But for now, we'll have some wonderful making out!


	10. Vows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not all vows require a wedding to be said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a lot of wondrous love songs.

Floating. The only accurate description of how Ella felt at this moment. Surrounded by miles and miles of soft white beauty that glided about with each movement she made. Beneath the billowy material, her glass slippers tapped mutely against the marble floor as she twisted and turned every which way. Unconsciously her fingers traced the embroidered flowers at the top of her bodice. The smooth threads stitched into elegant patterns of arctic blue anemones, sunny yellow lilies, blushing rosebuds, and jade green vines. Tiny butterflies darted between the flowers at random, twinkling in the daylight. Lush clusters of flowers ran the length of the skirt, just reaching up past her hips towards the edge of the bodice. Sheer white lace sat with the faintest sensation against her neck and down her arms, ruffling at her wrists.  
  
No fairy tale story, no romantic book, no description from the little girls of her childhood or women of her life ever came close to the beauty of her wedding dress.  
  
Stepping down from the fitting stool, she gently lifted her skirts before settling them against the floor and slowly walking the length of the long room. The mirror lined walls and ceiling provided her a new perspective as she glided along. A nearby window allowed autumnal breezes playfully flutter the edges of the long skirt, rippling the creamy material and the sheer top layer.   
  
After a pause at the end of the mirrored hall, a brilliant smile broke out on Ella’s face. Grasping at a point of the skirt, she twirled, creating a white swirl with flowery accents. The room blurred slightly, leaving her lightheaded, before she stopped and her skirts made a wave motion and fanned out about her. She grinned at her reflection in the mirror; her future wedding dances took on a whole new layer of beauty.  
  
A whisper of sighs and soft murmurs of approval came from her left and she turned, a still smiling, towards the Royal Seamstress, her assistants, Ella’s ladies-in-waiting and handmaidens.   
  
“Your ladyship,” the seamstress, Lady Astrid Bissette, fluttered sweetly as she rose from her seat. Her tall wig of looping curls and pearl pins jiggled with each measured step of her extremely ornate shoes. The dress of heavy dark purples and pale lace quivered as she came to a stop. “I thought the dress itself as pretty as a painting but on you, it is a moving work of art.” Ella bowed her head politely, still getting used to the near excessive flattery on a regular basis. “Your ladyship approves?”  
  
“Lady Bissette, it is an absolute dream!” Ella exclaimed, twirling again. “I could not imagine something so beautiful myself for a dress!” The Lady curtsied with a suppressed smile, completely pleased with herself and the future Queen’s reaction.   
  
Though her official title of Royal Seamstress brought all of the wardrobe needs of the Royal family to her skilled hands, a wedding gown, her first royal wedding gown, demanded the highest of attention. The Bissette family employed only the best and most skilled women and men. When her servant burst through the doors of her shop with news that the ‘mystery princess’ arrived at the palace, Lady Bissette anxiously awaited word for her services to be needed. Within the day, a Royal request arrived - all manner of gowns, both formal and daily, as well as a wedding gown. A large order to fill in a short time, but given the long list of individuals desperate to work under her for tutelage and guild reputation, she could and would meet then exceed expectations.  
  
Lady Ella, tiny and svelte, fit some of her most recent designs, allowing her to not only be the most fashionable but the first and only to wear them. She even forwarded the odd request from the King about straps on the Lady’s shoes to the shoemakers along with the fabrics to match the gowns.   
  
The Bissette family worked with the royal family for going on 4 generations and this was the first wedding gown made by their hands. Most of the marrying Queens brought gowns from their own homeland, made to blend both their past and future homelands. Lady Ella Sauveterre of Aldany needed something to not only represent herself but the land of Aldany itself. And Lady Bissette took the matter deeply to heart.  
  
“The veil nears completion, a day or so more required. When we return for your final fitting, I will be able to proudly present all of the pieces together. An image of Royal perfection and bridal elegance.” Lady Bissette gushed, waving her heavily perfumed handkerchief about before dabbing at crocodile tears. “An accomplishment for my family, to be sure.”  
  
“I thank you and your family for their incredible skill and art. Not just for this gown but for all of my clothing,” Ella smiled, extending her hand and taking up Lady Bissette’s heavily powdered one. They both bowed gently in respect. “I will see that his Majesty is aware of the incredible wonders you’ve created with cloth.” Those multiple lessons on aristocracy and the somewhat obsessive need for praise paid off as Lady Bissette continued to flutter with joy all the way out of the palace.

* * *

“You have set her up good and right for the next few weeks, my Lady,” Louisa smiled quietly as she assisted Ella into her evening gown, a rosy mauve dress with a stiff collar that opened just to the chest and gave the appearance of a short jacket rather than the top of a gown. Soot-black fur lined the bishop sleeves, curling affectionately against her wrists. She then put a set of golden chandelier earrings on her, just long enough to touch the top of the collar. “Lady Bissette is known for her loud humble nature. And her liberal use of gardenia water.” Ella chuckled as Louisa continued, “I wonder how does she keep the bees from attacking her in the spring.”  
  
“Those lace fans, starched to a knife point,” Dayaa supplied as she brought in the match pair of shoes. “Watch out for them, my lady. She about slit the wrists of Lord Bissette last year when she had a ‘fainting spell’.” A small laugh came with a wistful sigh. “But with all that, my lady, her work is incredible.” The three of them turned to gaze upon the wedding dress, the full skirt pendulous from where the entire dress rested on a hanging dress form. After a very delicate cleaning, her glass slippers rested in their special box, not to be brought out again until the wedding day.   
  
Dayaa twisted Ella’s hair half up, a long trail of curls tumbling down over the dark material. A golden pin of autumnal leaves curling about creamy pearls completed the style and after a few minor adjustments, Ella made her way towards the far side of the palace near the informal dining room. Though, she smirked to herself, informal apparently has varying definitions. The room seated at least 25 people, meals often lasted for 2 to 4 hours and included at least 7 courses. While she enjoyed the quieter meals with just herself and Kit, the wedding took place in less than a week and with guests of increasing importance arriving, they kept their time to breakfast alone.  
  
The grand hallways echoed with her footfalls, many of the courtiers now retiring to change into their own evening wear and prepare for dinner. Clocks all around the palace chimed 4 times, giving her plenty of time to sit in the garden before the half past 5 meal time. After reaching the doors she knew to be the dining room (she felt a map and a compass were needed for her), she turned for the outside.  
  
Exiting through an open terrace door, she nodded to the guards who bowed as she made her way down a set of stone stairs and down the long landscaped path. Despite today’s temperature rising well above the past few, Ella grabbed at her sleeves unconsciously, the fine hairs of the fur like silk threads between her fingers. The heavy material of the dress prevented the wind from giving her chills.   
  
Leaves fluttered around in small tornados, kicking up the empty seed pods and dandelion fluffs. Squirrels darted up and down the increasing bare trees in preparation for the onset of winter. Sparrows dove and spun between branches with sweet songs on their dark beaks. She made for a small sitting area near a beautiful fountain that she found to be peaceful and somewhat secluded from the rest of the palace grounds. Much like their ‘secret garden’, Ella found that few knew of this particular space in the massive royal garden.  
  
When she made to turn between beautifully sculpted hedges, something flickered in the corner of her eye. Pausing, she watched as Kit emerged from a separate path and walked with a determined pace towards another portion of the garden. Curious as always, and a touch concerned, she changed course and followed.

* * *

Kit never quite understood, or even determined in his own mind, what graveside behavior required. Even as a child, the memorial parades, walks and promenades to the graves of fallen soldiers, past kings and queens meant very little to him. Statues of people he never knew and battles far before his time. His mother often allowed him to remain in the carriage, bundled up beneath furs and blankets, sleeping through length ceremonies. Though his father preferred him present, it often only took one gaze on the curly mop of walnut curls for the King to concede.  
  
Upon the passing of the Queen, his mother, the King commissioned the latter portion of the royal garden and created a mausoleum for her amidst the flowering dogwood trees and weeping willows. Just beyond lay the ‘fairy fields’ as she fondly called them, wildflowers and tall grass ever waving in the gentle breeze. A half circle of pale marble benches sat at the very edge of the solid stone slab that made up a small platform before the doors to the grave.  
  
When the physicians gave his father little time, the King made provisions for his funeral ceremonies. The mourning time - 30 weeks per custom - included several days of laying in state, the flag of Aldany draped over an open casket, mourning flowers in place over his body. A procession through the main city before returning to the palace. After a day and a night, a small private funeral procession lead by the new King brought him to his final resting place at the Queen’s side.   
  
So stood Kit before the stone structure, a small bouquet of autumnal flowers turning smoothing as he rolled it between his hands. The garden staff refreshed the graveside offerings frequently so the need to bring something himself appeared almost negligible. But for all the artfully arranged and colorful flowers, he remembered the times he and his father walked her together, recalling their favorite memories of his mother. Times when she serenaded them at breakfast, her fingers combing out Kit’s unruly hair. How she padded barefoot through the fields on the first of spring, dancing around the maypole with her ladies-in-waiting and offering songs for the coming season. When even when she took to bed, unable to hold herself up without a sea of pillows about her, she still took time to listen to both her husband and son’s stories of their days.  
  
His father taught him that speaking to the ones you’ve lost can both help and heal in their absence. That those you love never truly leave you or go away if you speak their names, remember their lives in the stories you tell of them.   
  
So the once fond walk of memory turned into a solemn walk of remembrance. His father now rested beside the woman he frequently called his ‘most beloved one’ and he sat before them and talked as if they sat at a table together.  
  
“I am sorry that I’ve not been able to come more frequently. The palace resembles more of a beehive than anything else. I can hear your voice, father, telling me it is to be expected given ‘the grandeur of the coming days’.” For a moment, he lost his voice, unable to swallow around the lump in his throat. “Oh but for both of you to see her. My beautiful Ella, Lady of the Glass Slippers as the people have taken to saying. Today they brought in her gown though, as I promised, mother, I did not ruin anything by peaking like I threatened as a boy. I saw the long box and became overwhelmed by the strong trail of Lady Bissette’s perfume in the gallery.”  
  
“Ella loves your gardens, father. Wandered them for the entire of a day, her ladies chasing after her with parasols and increasingly larger hats. A fleck of sun on her face and you think she would melt! But she just...wandered. Her sense of wonder and fascination with everything,” he sighed with a small chuckle. “I could spend hours on her smile alone. But I’m sure you’d be bored with my horrid attempts at poetic descriptions.”  
  
“She’ll be wearing the earrings, mother, the ones you loved so much. The aquamarine starbursts you picked out for the winter you told father I was to be born? She loved them the moment I showed them to her. I may have decided to hand them to her first, my own bias towards them probably quite visible. But it will be a piece of you at the wedding as much as the silver comb for the veil is a piece of her mother.” He blinked at the slight blur in his vision, ignoring the moisture there. “How I wished to have met her parents and her to know you. I hope the memories and stories I tell will do justice to you both.”  
  
A small cut out of the stone held enough space for the bouquet and fresh water, scroll work chiseled into the marble to create a beautiful frame. He tucked the stems into the opening and slid the bouquet into place. The bright pop of orange, yellow, and red flowers with dark green flora amplifying their beauty against the pale swirled stone. He stood back, eyes closing and head lowering slightly in reverence. “I ask you both to guide me, keep with me as I go. To help me rule as fair and just as you taught and showed me. And to guide me to love Ella, my Queen and wife, with all the love you gave each other, so that I may always be worth of her affections.”  
  
The soft slide of flesh against his wrist caused him a small jump but the familiar softness and willowy digits folding with his fingers gave him instant reassurance. His eyes opened slowly and he watched as she brought their joined hands to her lips, kissing his own. She rested her chin on his shoulder, a calm but solemn expression on her face.   
  
“I hope to be as fair and just of Queen as your mother. To love you as they loved each other. And to always be worth of someone with such care and love for me,” she whispered as a quiet declaration. Their lips met in a bare touch, the moment as delicate as the falling leaves but as strong as the marble surrounding them.   
  
They stood in silence at the mausoleum until the the bells rang out at 5 o’clock. Arm in arm, Kit and Ella took the path that lead to the main ballroom where they walked the first time in this garden together. As they passed, several of the gardeners noticed them with the oldest among them looking twice. He later swore they looked so much like the old King and Queen he thought they to be ghosts of the most pleasant kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we have 1-2 more small chapters (might merge them if they're too small) before we get into the multi-chapter wedding! In the words of Jack Sparrow: "Weddings? I love weddings! Drinks all around!" And there will be much of the wedding and drinks to go around!
> 
> This is also the last chapter before we head into an official rating's change and the NSFW material kicks in! A little hot, a little heavy. And considering the amount of requests I'm still getting, I'm hoping you'll all enjoy what's coming up!


	11. Swept Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love brings all manner of beautiful things. Love between a young monarch and his future bride brings locked doors and secret rendezvous.
> 
> Intimate sexual content and behavior. Rating changed for this and future chapters.

Despite her sharp wit and quick mind, Ella still found herself at times forgetful. Usually this occurred in the face of a confusing situation or sudden circumstances but she recovered gracefully and often times, barely anyone noticed. One recent dinner nearly lead to social faux pax when she attempted to shake hands with a minister who’s country strictly forbade physical contact with their monarchs’ wives. Though she found it ridiculous, she twisted her wrist to create a flair of her hand and asked their opinion of the palace gardens just beyond the glass doors. No one noticed and she exhaled a anxious breath as they moved on.  
  
Even good minds forget where they got to or how they got there even once in a while.  
  
However, today appeared to be filled with ‘once in a while’s as Ella barely recalled how she got away from the small crowd of courtiers, eager to see her on the day before the wedding, and into a small library. Her memory escaped her further as to how Kit managed to do it and how she became trapped between a bookshelf and his body, barely able to catch her breath as they tangled together.  
  
Soft moans echoed in the empty room, the sound of desperate kisses and caresses filling her ears. Kit pressed his lips down the length of her jaw and onto her neck as Ella traced faint kisses to the shell of his ear and cheek. The feel of his gloved hands on the back of her neck made her shiver and she quickly removed at least one to feel warm fingertips instead of fine linen. Her own fingers slid through his silky curls, turning him all at once from well dressed King to wild-eyed lover. A silent thanks went to her ladies-in-waiting for leaving her hair in a loose low-do today that took only a few moments to fix.  
  
Somehow they managed from the bookcase to the chaise lounge. Ella recalled no actual movement of her feet but cared very little as Kit pressed hungry kisses to her neck and collarbone. Curling her neck forward, she left breathless presses of her lips against his temple and hairline...whatever part of his face reachable from her current position.   
  
She lay half on her back with her shoulder pressed into the arm of the chaise; Kit lay next to her with his one of his legs braced beneath her own. Their feet intertwined much like their arms and she shuddered as his boot-covered toe scraped up the front of her stockinged leg, pushing her skirt up ever so slightly. Receiving this incentive, she stretched her leg over and ran her now shoeless foot up the back of his calf. He instantly responded by pressing their lips together and all but devouring the sounds of her soft groaning.  
  
Letting go of his collar and jacket, she let her hands wander down to squeeze at his waist and hips before circling up his back. He mirrored her by gripping her waist and pulling her forward so their chests and stomachs pressed together completely. An unexpected rush of adrenaline raced through her veins and she tugged at his jacket, pulling it off his one arm before he deftly removed it from the other. The silk shirt beneath felt hot and smooth beneath her hands which trailed up his abdomen to the open area at the base of his neck. Delicate fingers sought the texture of his skin and Ella nearly cried out with triumph as his shirt fell open further.  
  


But the noise that built in her throat in victory turned into a deep gasp and low moan as Kit’s lips found the tops of her breasts, his warm breath ghosting past the tight bodice and over her skin like wildfire. Soft noises escaped her as his hands started at her hips and moved in a calculatingly slow fashion up her sides, to her back then around to her chest. The cry finally escaped her as he pressed the confining garment closer to her, lifting her breasts higher then placing biting kisses to the extremely sensitive skin.  
  
“My Kit,” she moaned breathily, arching into his hold as he continued to press and kiss. They shifted enough that she lay beneath him, his body cradled between her thighs and atop many frustrating layers of material. But her feet found purchase against his legs and she pulled him in, wanting to feel every inch of his body in contact with her own. Her hips ground up against him unconsciously and she felt more than heard the desperate groan that escaped him against her neck. He pressed them impossibly closer  and her head fell back with a gasp as they continued on.

* * *

Kit felt the carefully controlled leash he placed over his control slip that much more when she rolled her body up in the tight space they occupied. Pulling back slightly, he gazed adoringly at the site of her: golden ringlets splayed about and spilling over the sides of the chaise, bright rosy coloring to her cheeks, a delightful flush on her skin, the rapid rise and fall of her chest with the very edges of pale pink areola peaking beyond the edges of her bodice.   
  
The times of hiding around corners, stealing away into unoccupied rooms, kissing as they ducked between hedges, only able to briefly enjoy their obvious physical attraction, came numbered down to hours. And as she reached up for him with a blatant look of want, the loose sleeves of her gown exposing more of her glorious flesh, he felt the worst sort of impatience.  
  
“My Ella,” he barely whispered as he slid up to kiss her thoroughly, hands finding memorization of her clothed form in anticipation of their wedding night.   
  
Faint bells, so incredibly distant compared to harsh breaths and unconscious moaning, broke the spell they weaved about them a few minutes later. And as both huffed in annoyance at the intrusion, they slowly retreated back from their actions. All that started desperate and needy morphed into lazy and relaxed. Kit continued to place worshipping kisses on her exposed skin, tracing the line of the bodice with a near whispering of his lips and trying not to grin at delightful shivering passing over Ella’s body.   
  
When their eyes met, a burning glaze of passion still visible between them, they mirrored anxious smiles and faint laughter. Ella rose up from her position, chasing his lips as he sat back, her fingers still gently entwined in his hair. Silence took over them momentarily before they began to straighten each other’s clothing with shaky fingers.  
  
Ella chuckled sweetly, brushing his hair into some order, “I fear you appear absolutely wild right now.”  
  
“Am I wild, my love?” he asked with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. Ella leaned in and kissed him hard once more.  
  
“Positively. And I would have you no other way,” she responded in a low breathy voice. Kit suppressed an ungentlemanly noise and the urge to return to their former position. “But alas, you and I must appear somewhat decent. What rumors would circulate the court if we arrived, half undressed, hair undone, breathless?” Her voice trailed off as Kit leaned forward to kiss her neck as they both worked to adjust her bodice and sleeves. “I can’t imagine what they would think of us.”  
  
His amused hum against her skin caused her to grip the arm of the lounge tightly. “Well, firstly, there will be those who frown upon such interactions,” he started, pulling back with a comical frown. “We must learn to control ourselves.” Ella laughed as he lowered his voice to sound like one of the older courtiers. “Then those who will see it as ‘young love’ and turn it into some kind of terribly written romantic story. And lastly, those who will see it as another reason to adjust their wagers on how long until a heir is born.” His hand smoothed down the front of her dress, resting over her abdomen before sliding around to her back. “But that last group can wait. For I wish to have you all to myself for a while. And there is no rush for us to have a child.”  
  
“Mmm, just one child?” she queried, cocking an eyebrow.  
  
“No, as many as you want, my darling,” he smiled, kissing her gently on the lips. “For any child born to as wonderful a woman as you will be the envy of the whole kingdom.”  
  
They made to continue their kiss when a loud rattling noise startled them both. Someone sought entry to the library and, given the persistence of the shaking door knob, knew their hiding place. After an almost run in encounter with the new Arch Duke in a study, they made doubly sure to lock all doors when they ducked away. The pair stood up as the interloper knocked firmly but quietly on the door. Kit crossed the room and after a quick approving nod from Ella, unlocked and slightly opened the door.  
  
Lord Rowan desperately tried to suppress the grin on his face. However, he barely controlled his laughter.   
  
“Your majesty,” he bowed his head slightly, a rumbling laughter deep in his chest. “With respect to you and the Lady, I must inform you that several nobles arrived a few minutes ago and are awaiting your Royal presence in the the green salon. And Lord Castener is already on his fourth or fifth brandy in toast of your wedding. There are a few hoping to toast with you present.”  
  
Kit nodded and gestured towards the door. Rowan returned the nod before giving him a look and moved to correct the top few golden buttons that stood oddly askew. Ella blushed furiously as she walked past them both and out into the long hall. Rowan chuckled as he brushed off Kit’s shoulders and let him pass while leaning in to say, “The wagers place good money on a royal babe before summer. Best not to fuel that fire.”

* * *

A combination of innocence, curiosity, and the new found freedom to explore desires caused an increase in the amorous actions between Kit and Ella. What started as lingering kisses progressed into losing whole bundles of time to increasingly more sensual interactions.   
  
She otherwise had been repressed by her constant chores, familial abuse, and the stories told by Anastasia and Drusilla. They gossiped loud when she stood nearby, describing awful and terrible trysts. The often grossly exaggerated and graphic tales of men clashed with their claims of complete purity and innocence they espoused to their mother. Ella knew of the books they hid beneath their mattresses, novels filled with even more detailed romances that left her flushed with unfamiliar heat. She returned them to their ‘secret’ place with the intent of never seeing them again.  
  
With physicians speaking of her need to be in peak health for a future heir, she found herself more confused than knowledgable. But the thought of asking the older men any questions regarding such things made the embarrassment even worse. At her request, Louisa quietly brought the midwife, Madame Goodwin, from the village to help answer some questions. Ella knew her from days past and felt more comfortable with the coppery haired woman who delivered so many babies over the years.   
  
As much as she stuttered and blushed through her inquiries, Madame Goodwin proved answers with an understanding smile and sweet demeanor. “My Lady, as much knowledge as I can provide to you, I will. But the experience between two who are in love is as varied and beautiful as the persons themselves.” The details of intimacy between man and woman brought her to nervous laughter which the midwife joined her in. She left her with a small branch of orange blossoms, the meaning not lost upon Ella as their sweet perfume scented the air. Goodwin took her hands and squeezed them in comfort. “You are so young. Enjoy you love as much as you can. Do not be afraid of how you feel.”  
  
So later that night, when her fingers tangled into his hair, giving a short sharp tug, she let the rush of blood take her over as Kit groaned and fell near limp when he mirrored the action. She absorbed every touch, every moment, and found herself desperate and hungry for more. Every opportunity to duck away and entangle themselves just briefly both satisfied and taunted them both. Propriety dictated Ella go to her wedding bed a virgin, the King requiring a ‘pure’ wife to bear the next child to the throne. While he scoffed at what he considered a decrepit notion, Ella stood firmly that despite their burgeoning desires, she would be married a maiden and their first night together would be as man and wife. Even as he stared at her almost as if bewitched, he agreed and respected her choice in the matter. He wanted her as comfortable and ready as she desired. “But please tell me I may kiss you again?” his rough voice asked, lips on her throat. The gentle tug on his hair produced a wolfish grin and he swallowed her deep moan in a possessive kiss.  
  
Dayaa spoke nothing but wore a knowing smile when applying makeup to her neck where red marks glowed up like a fiery star. Much to the delight of the courtiers, Ella also took to wearing the winter gowns with higher collars. For none of them wished to continue to don the lighter clothes of autumn as fashion dictated in the rapidly cooling autumn and if the future Queen begged forgiveness to bundle against the cold, they felt sure to join her in the endeavor.

* * *

Ella sent up many silent prayers of thanks to whomever discovered champagne. Even more thanks and praise to the person who determined mixing honey and lavender into it for a deliciously fruity and flowery drink that she by far took in too much of. A pale shimmery haze floated about her vision and made the prolonged dinner this evening more pleasant and easier to get through.  
  
Of course, it helped very little that Princess Sherlina of Zheragosa sat with a small contingent of her countrymen at one side of the banquet table. With several other princes, princesses, dukes, admirals, and members of nobility surrounding and watching Ella very, very closely. As much as she found acceptance, the idea of a merchant’s daughter being married to the King of Aldany (or any country) rankled quite a few. Where opinions made before the masses of fellow countrymen remained ever positive and kind, the now gathered group of ‘upper class’ individuals found safety in the closed numbers.   
  
Whispers at the table made for increased nerves and thankfully, no one frowned up partaking of plenty of champagne seeing as her wedding came tomorrow morning.  
  
Not everyone treated Ella with such scrutiny. Princess Mai Mai and Princess Belinda immediately swept her up in friendly conversation, introducing her to their ambassadors and traveling circles. The King’s ministers warmly greeted her, teasing her in a friendly fashion and laughing at her interjections. Custom dictated she sit a few seats away from Kit during the actual meal which, blessedly, put her next to Belinda and across from Mai Mai. And in the direct path of many, many rounds of champagne.  
  
Just as midnight passed, she finally made it back to her suite for her last night before becoming a married woman. And three days before being crowned Queen of Aldany.  
  
Louisa and Dayaa grinned as Ella giggled her way through changing from the heavy evening gown into her nightclothes, needing an extra guiding hand on either side to keep her from toppling several times. Once in her dressing robes, they provided her with cups of a special herbal tea into her to relieve her current state and prevent pain the next day. After her fourth cup, she shooed them away with a sweet thank you, and relaxed into a chair.  
  
Her vision danced about the room, taking in the pale golden glow of the candles and the subtle changes to the room from day to nighttime. Even the shadows appeared friendly with the flickering firelight. Ella rose up from her chair and wandered the room, occasionally twirling about, smiling down at the lift of her skirts and the light click of her slippers against the floor.  
  
On one spin, her eyes caught the window and she slid to a stop with a soft gasp. Leaning on the sill, she pressed against the cold glass to witness fluffy snowflakes making their way through the trees. She huffed in annoyance upon realizing that the still present leaves prevented her from seeing the snowy display in the sky. A beat later she remembered one of the two passages that lead from her room went through a tiny antechamber that included a window overlooking a small secluded part of the gardens but gave a clear view of the sky.  
  
She kicked her shoes off as she moved swiftly towards the wall panel and entered the darkened corridor. An initial shock of cold darted up from where her bare feet padded against the wood and marble floors. The light behind her gave just enough for her to get through two more doorways and into the room.   
  
A large window provided the stunning view Ella desired - snow, tumbling gently from large white clouds, and coating everything with a glimmering sheen. Periodic cracks in the clouds allowed a faint moonlight to reflect and distant torchlight provided some further brilliance. She climbed into the extended sill and relaxed against the wall and frame, intent on staying there for a while to enjoy the scene. Tomorrow, the gardeners will remove the snow from the stairs and pathways, wipe off the banisters and benches outside for their many guests.  
  
For now, silence covered the land as it turned from earthy browns and greens into ethereal whites.  
  
A creak caused her a small jump and the doorway she came through opened further. She initially thought Louisa or Dayaa as candlelight came around the door. Her incorrect guess only caused her increased joy as Kit appeared, his facial expression changing from curious to endearment as he saw her perched in the window. Dressed in a long black robe, half tied linen shirt and black pants, she admired his undone appearance and bare feet as he entered.  
  
“I came to leave a wedding present in your great room when I saw you dash to the back hall,” he explained, placing a large candlestick on a nearby table. When she reached out her arms to him, stepping down to stand, his smile grew and he wrapped her up in a tight embrace. She sighed at the new warmth suffusing into her skin as he adjusted his hold to watch the snow with her. “I hear it may snow throughout the day tomorrow...well, today.”  
  
“It will be wonderful to see everything covered in white,” she replied sweetly. “How beautiful and wonderful.”  
  
“And here the only beautiful and wonderful white I want to see tomorrow is you, coming down the aisle, wearing a wedding dress,” he whispered, his lips fluttering against her temple. Ella loosed a low half laugh that turned into low moan as his warm hands moved over her in a decidedly sensual manner. One arm came up across her chest, resting at her collarbones. He ghosted the fingers of his free hand teasingly on her chin before pressing his palm against her breastbone. Ella swore her heart now worked to crack through to his hand.  
  
“Breathe, Ella,” he whispered, lips tracing the sensitive skin behind her left ear. She reached up and grabbed ahold the arm across her chest, nodding as his other hand smoothed down her gown. Everything felt electrified as the soft linen of her thin gown grew taut then loosened as he moved. Down over her rib cage and to her abdomen, his fingers curling in absent designs over her belly and stopping just below belly button.  
  
The pause spoke so many things into the silence only broken by their breaths. And Ella felt that if any other man at any other time in her life held her this way, the anxious twisting inside her would lead to fear and screaming, fighting away from it. But this was Kit, her kind apprentice monarch, the love of her life, and he gave her control of their pace and progress, how far their touches went and when to stop. She followed her desires, wrapping her hand around his wrist and guiding it down.   
  
The sudden warmth of his hand between her legs left her giddy and shaking. Her body arched back into his and she loosed all the of air from her lungs as she ground against his hips. A thin gown provided no buffer and she felt his hardness, the tremor of his body as he whispered her name in a voice like silk being dragged across stones. All at once, she felt powerful and completely at his mercy.  
  
Her head fell back on his shoulder as she threw her arm up to touch his neck and shoulder. Air fed into her lungs through windy crags, the sound rattling and the sound exquisite. A high pitched mewling noise came from her parted lips, her thighs shaking against his hand. The nightgown drew taut over her chest and legs and she felt so much she could barely hold herself up. Hot streams of breath against her neck followed down her neck, raking up goosebumps and adding another layer of sensation. Her world appeared to be rattling apart at the seams just with his touch.  
  
Then all at once, the pressure stopped. Kit wrapped the arm around her lower waist and held her so tightly. His heart raced a beat against her back, breathing just as ragged as her own. Smooth lips rested against her skin, the slight moisture of a kiss marking her skin as assuredly as a tattoo.   
  
Wind blew outside, the rattle of the trees audible through the glass. A swirl of snow drifted by and caught both of their attentions. Everything hot and anxious passed from the room, leaving them wrapped up in each other’s embrace. Still intact, still together, still Ella and Kit.  
  
Distant chimes spoke of 1 o’clock in the morning.

Ella turned in his arms, sweeping him up in a slow kiss as her heart continued to steady. When she leaned back, their eyes met and she felt an ache in her chest at the pure adoration and affection in his gaze. He pressed one last kiss to her lips, squeezing her once more before they broke apart. At the last moment, he grabbed at her fingertips.

 “Will I see you tomorrow, my lady?,” he asked with soft smile crossing his face, so young and sweet in the faintly scattered moonlight.  
  
Ella bit her lip before returning the expression. “I believe so. Look for me, will you?”  
 “How will I recognize you?”  
  
To that, she grinned outright. “I’ll be the one in the veil at the front of the chapel. Hopefully, you won’t miss me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Support all women and their choice in sexuality. Whether a virgin bride or sex all the time, you do what makes you happy and be proud of yourselves. That goes for the guys too! Respect everyone's choices!
> 
> So this is the start of the chapters with sexual content. There will be a wedding night scene (not sure if next chapter or after but we'll see). Material may be slow to come in the next few weeks as I'm heading into the 'busy' season for birthdays and travel. I hope to have a chapter at least once every 2 weeks if possible. We'll see.
> 
> Thank you so much for all of your love!


	12. Marriage, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wedding brings two households, two families together in matrimony.   
> It also reminds us of those who love us, who want the best for us, and who is no longer there.   
> Family is not always the people you are born to but they are those who cannot live without.

Ella gratefully took a sip of Earl Grey tea, smiling slightly at the sudden appearance of three hands holding up linen handkerchiefs to her chin. A delicious citrusy flavor washed down her throat and calmed her slightly as the morning activities continued in a flurry of ribbons, laces, fabric, and hair brushes. In addition to Louisa and Dayaa, the daughters of 5 noble houses and a veritable army of servants attended her this morning. The young ladies all came in preparation for becoming her Royal Ladies in Waiting.   
  
They provided kind and welcome distraction from the tedious dressing process. Ella rarely interacted with so many women her age, all youthful and hopeful, romantic and innocent. Gossip on the gowns and clothes of others attending, whom will arrive with whom, hearing about this Lord and that Lady -- Ella found herself laughing more today than she expected given her nervousness about the ceremony. Between early glasses of champagne, sweets, and hot tea, she began to remember each of their names, smiles, and wonderful personalities.  
  
All of her undergarments came freshly pressed and brand new to go with the exquisite wedding gown. Silk stockings with colorful flowers stitched across the bands provided some protection against the cold. Her chemise, kindly warmed up by one of the ladies before she donned it, provided only mild comfort as her handmaidens tightened her corset. Covered in soft blue material and stitched scrollwork done in gold, it enhanced her delicate frame. Snow white and pale blue petticoats hung beautifully from her hips, swishing and swaying with each twist and turn.   
  
Then came the wedding dress.  
  
Even those honored to see it on her before stood in awe as it slipped over head. Lady Bissette barked orders with the ease of many years dressing women for their wedding day. A small circle of women held the edges of the skirt, moving as instructed to prevent wrinkles or anyone from stepping on the material. Tiny pearl buttons took Louisa’s steady hands to hook into even smaller loops. A few tugs and hands smoothing away bumps later, Lady Bissette declared the dress finished and waved forward the next round of women baring the hair tools.   
  
Boar bristle brushes smoothed out any flyaway hairs before the hairdresser created thick, defined curls. Ella winced as they tugged the curls up and back, tucking combs the color of her hair so all at once, creating a polished upsweep. A combination beeswax and sugar water coated the strands with a polished shine. Though the waterfall of golden ringlets would be partially hidden beneath the cathedral length veil, the dresser took extra time to brush the hair polish over each still warm curl to keep them in place. They dabbed her hair with perfumes made from the most delicate of flowers, nothing too strong to overwhelm her.  
  
Louisa wove through large skirts and giggling whispers of the youthful royal cortège, carrying the newly polished silver comb that went down the aisle the first time with Ella’s mother. The dresser took it with a soft nod and delicate hands, sliding slowly across the top of Ella’s head to where it met the rise of curls. Two of the young ladies carefully lifted the veil from a silk wrapping, baring it across the room with bright smiles. As the dresser worked it into place, they bowed and reintroduced themselves (Amelia - citrine eyes and glorious mahogany curls; Imogen - white blonde with hazel eyes and rosy cheeks) before offering more congratulations.   
  
“If I beg your pardon, Lady Ella, my father has spoken of how besotted the King is with you ladyship,” Amelia started, smiling sweetly with a dreamy look in her eyes. “He spoke of how he met you in the wood on a hunt.”  
  
“Oh, I’ve heard something similar but I wonder if your story is as fanciful as the one I heard,” Imogen laughed, fluttering her small lace fan to ward off the heat of many people and the roaring fire. “I heard fairies lit a path of wisps that lead him to you!”  
  
“No, no! A trail of blue birds tugged on his coat tails and lapel, bringing him to your runaway horse!,” the former giggled. “How did it actually happen?”  
  
Ella grinned but her eyes soften, the memory both striking and sweet, distracting her from the continued tugging of her hair. “I ran into the stag the courtiers hunted, spooking my mare into a full gallop. He saw me beyond the trees and shrubs then followed me out of concern. He settled my horse and we talked. It seems...kind of plain when I say it, especially compared to the stories being told. But for me, it was like magic. I could barely breath when I looked in his eyes let alone respond. I didn’t know him as the Prince for I barely left my home at the time. But even if he were a simple farm hand or apprentice, my heart decided on him from the moment we met.”  
  
A collective sigh caught her attention, the room of women sighing at her words. Even Lady Bissette fluttered her fan just a little less with a dreamy expression on her powdered face. The moment came and went, the hairdresser clearing her throat and stepping back from Ella. A small flurry made of Dayaa, Louisa, and two servants brought  forth jewelry chests and her shoes. The starburst earrings, a precious jewel set from the former King to his queen, rested perfectly against her pale skin. They fastened her gift from Kit around her left wrist - a pink pearl bracelet with a butterfly shaped crystal charm.   
  
When the ornate box containing the glass slippers opened, all of the ladies rushed forward to see them in person. For while all of them tried the shoe on, now the pair sat glimmering in the daylight, casting rainbows about the room. Louisa knelt before her, accepting each shoe from Dayaa and sliding them onto Ella’s stockinged feet with ease.  
  
Louisa rose up and stepped back with a tearful smile. “I do believe that is all, my lady,” she said quietly. Ella paused with her eyes closed, taking a deep breath before rising up from her chair. The cool glass cradled her feet as she walked towards the large mirror. Her ladies and servants parted to create a path of awe-struck observers.   
  
All at once, she saw herself. And nothing like she remembered.  
  
The gown appeared longer, more flowing, a peaked snow drift rising up from the ground. The veil floated upon the air, settling with a shimmer upon the back of the gown and trailing beyond the embroidered hem. Jewels, pearls, flowers, silks -- an image of bridal beauty and a being worthy of the most exquisite words of poets. For a moment, her face crumbled as she realized neither set of parents awaited the bride and groom in the cathedral. How her mother would have calmed her nerves with sweet songs and stories; her father would have kissed her cheek and told her how no one could be as beautiful as she. The King and Queen would know them, become such good friends as they discussed their kind-hearted children. But as she looked on her mother’s comb shined against her golden hair, the Queen’s earrings winked in unison back at her. They stood with her even in this moment, proud and loving.  
  
In that moment, the wretched servant girl finally saw herself as Lady Ella Sauveterre, soon to be married and become Queen Ella of Aldany. Beyond the pain of her past, beyond the abuse and neglect. No longer “dirty Ella” or “Cinder wench”. She stood proud as Cinderella, the Lady of the Glass Slipper, a fairy tale in the flesh.   
  
Gently, she moved the second half of the veil over her face, smiling as it tickled at her wrists. Ella braced herself not to cry herself but tears fell as she spoke quietly. “I have no mother or sisters, no family to be here for me today. My ladies, all of you, no matter your rank or place, do me the greatest pleasure and honor by helping me on my wedding day. So I ask all of you, if you would do me the honor, of standing in their place.”   
  
When her gaze came up from where it drifted to her folded hands, she found not a dry eye. Some hid behind handkerchiefs, others their hands. But many just stood with tears in their eyes. Louisa, weeping silently with a smile on her face, handed her a bouquet of flowers that dipped like a waterfall in her hands.   
  
“It would be our honor, my lady,” she whispered, stepping back and dipping a bow. Murmured agreement came in joyful but hushed responses all of them bowed before her. The Ladies soon to spend nearly every day in the Queen’s service gave their best curtsies, so excited to be a part of this day. When they rose up again, it appeared as if she banished the tears from her cheeks and grinned brightly.  
  
“Then let us to away to the church. For no wedding day is complete without a groom.”  
  


* * *

 

“Your majesty.”  
  
Kit’s steps stuttered to a halt and he spun around to face the guard whom just entered the room. His fingers continued to nervously trace the buttons of his cuffs. “Yes?”  
  
“Your majesty, the carriage has left the palace in route to the cathedral,” the guard stated with a bow. Kit loosed a relieved sigh and nodded, murmuring this thanks before returning to pacing. Confused, the guard looked to Lord Rowen who chuckled and dismissed him with wave.  
  
“This cathedral has stood for nearly 400 years,” he started, watching as Kit distractedly nodded at his words. “But your majesty will wear away at its very sturdy foundation if you continue to pace as so.”  
  
“I--I don’t--” Kit scrambled for words as he paused before grunting in frustration and going back to walking. “I don’t know what else to do.”  
  
“What is there to do? The Lady will be brought through a very crowded city, many people to admire her and wish her well as she journeys. But she is on her way,” he patiently explained, stopping Kit with firm hands on his shoulders. “And she will be here soon.”  
  
The younger man sighed again, shaking his head in a vague attempt to quell the nervous thoughts dominating his mind. Much to Lord Rowen’s pleasure, Kit moved to sit at the nearby table, taking up the glass of wine he earlier abandoned. He pointedly refilled Kit’s drink before pouring one for himself and sitting across from him. Another laugh escaped him as the young monarch drained the wine in one pull. “Your highness, I would hate to hold you up during your own wedding.”  
  
Kit swallowed the wine with anxious thirst and put the glass back down with a clink. He leaned his elbows on his thighs before resting his head in his hands. A conscious effort he also made to not run his hands through his hair repeatedly. “Is it always like this? Or am I the only man nervous before his wedding?”  
  
“Not at all, your majesty. My brothers threatened to toss me in the horse’s watering trough if I did not calm down. And my wife only waited three rooms away from me before our ceremony.”  
  
“I wish I knew if my father was this nervous,” Kit wondered aloud. “I wish I could ask him.”  
  
“From what my father told me, it was worse,” Rowen sighed, voice deepening in a dramatic fashion. “You grandfather almost took the reigns of the horse from your father. He was so jittery, the stallion barely kept still and nearly tossed him twice. And your mother lost her the pearl comb gifted by your father that morning when she left the palace. The servants caused a small riot trying to find it before she went down the aisle.” Kit grinned, looking up at his friend and nodding. “You are not the first man to worry on his wedding day. Nor shall you be the last.”  
  
Kit leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. “I just can’t believe after all the time trying to find her, everything that has happened...it’s finally time for us to wed. She’ll be my wife and soon, she will be Queen.”  
  
“A lot to happen to a young lady in such a short time. She made mention of her own nerves to a courtier a few days ago,” Rowen informed him, watching Kit’s eyebrows shoot up in interest. “That is why I asked my daughter Amelia to keep her as distracted as possible without causing a scene today.”  
  
“That’s right, Amelia is becoming one of the Queen’s ladies,” he remembered.  
  
“Yes, a high honor. I was surprised the Head of the Royal Household chose her initially. Lady Marcus once thought Amelia’s dancing ‘club-footed’ and ‘ox-like’.”  
  
“She did step on my toes. Three times.”  
  
“That is way my wife insisted on dance lessons for all of our daughters. ‘My girls will not crush the toes of the royal son!’ she cried, chasing them about with these terrible black practice shoes. Made them practice nearly 4 hours a day for a month before she eased up on them, convinced they would not injury a royal foot again!”  
  
Kit found himself laughing at the memory of a wide-eyed Amelia Grosvenor as he, then a child, leapt away with a yelp of pain. When tears crested her eyes, he tried his hardest to tell her how he was fine. But he watched her mother cross the floor with a thousand apologies before rushing the girl out. The Queen made sure to send gifts of thanks for the young lady’s time and many reassurances Kit would walk without a limp.   
  
“There, see! Already a few minutes pass and you are in much better spirits! Should I regale you with more humorous moments from your childhood? Perhaps when you were 10 and decided to climb the tallest tree in the gardens then split your trousers when you scurried down to your angry father?”  
  
“No no,” Kit managed around laughter. “No need to go over my many misadventures through the years. I’ve had so many it must be hard to keep up with them.” Their laughter quieted, the sound of people cheering and distant music muted through the windows and stone.   
  
“Your father, before he passed away, confided in me his sheer disbelief in your insistent in finding the Lady Ella,” Rowen spoke quietly. “He was so much weaker then, barely able to rise up from bed. And after years of fighting every battle, down and up hill, I could barely recognize him.”  
  
“But one morning, he asked for the slipper to be brought to him. His man retrieved the box and he sat up for the first time a week, simply turning it over in his hands. Watching as the light moved through and about it. After a time, he returned it to the box and asked for you. Never knew what he wanted to say but the way he looked, the expression on his face...I could never place it but it looked...serene. Like he beheld something in that glass shoe that gave him peace.”  
  
Kit felt the fingers he pressed to his temples tremor slightly before he slid his hands down to his cheeks. “When I saw him that day, he told me to find Ella. To follow my heart and find her. I had to wait due to mourning rites but he told me to find the ‘forgetful one who always loses her shoes’. Apparently he met her briefly at the ball when she ran into him, literally, where she charmed him in an instant.”  
  
“I knew it would work!” Rowen laughed, slapping a hand on his knee. “She must have some Fae in her somewhere, sweeping everyone off their feet with a look.” He took a sip of his wine before making a comically serious face. “I pray for you when your children are born; they’ll be able to get away with anything,” he deadpanned. Kit laughed, a bright cheery sound that rang in the glasses nearby.  
  
A sudden clear chorus of trumpets picked up beyond the window, heralding the approach of the entourage for Ella. Both men rose and crossed to the window. Just beyond the glass and past the boughs of flowers lining nearly every available surface, a golden shine rose up off the roof the carriage. Cheers rose up and Kit felt his pulse increase as the sound grew louder and louder.  
  
“If I don’t get the chance to tell you later on, I’m glad you’re here with me today,” he said quietly. He grabbed at Rowen’s shoulder, squeezing it in a brotherly fashion. “You’ve always been able to keep me steady even at my worst. And I thank you for doing so again today.”  
  
Rowen nodded and returned the gesture. “Once you are married, I fear my position of keeping you together will be rendered unnecessary, your majesty. The Lady appears to have that calming effect on you.”  
  
“She does but I will still need you around. Someone needs to keep me together when she isn’t available.”

* * *

Ella made a genuine effort to wave to all as the carriage took her from the palace to the cathedral. It helped to have not only an enclosure to prevent the wind and snow from chilling her but for the windows and roof to be made of glass. Flower petals mixed with fat flurries to create this ever shifting play of shadows against the bright sky. With each new section of the city they crossed into, trumpets struck up to play a cheery song to excite the citizens.  
  
City workers rose early to start their day only to find snow covering the streets. Bakers, shoemakers, blacksmiths, even textile merchants sent their men to help shovel out the streets for the royal procession. People huddled close for warmth, dressed in their finery to stand outside since early morning to get a prime view of the royal carriage. The same way Ella’s carriage rode would be the way back once the ceremony completed. A blizzard could coat the city in 10 feet of ice but nothing would stop Aldany from seeing their King wed.  
  
The dress took up most of the extra space but she still rested comfortably as they moved along. It took a good 10 minutes to properly arrange her inside of the cab, all of her ladies laughing and smiling to help ease the obvious anxiety scribbled on her face. When satisfied, they gave encouraging words and well wishes before departing for a pair of carriages that followed closely behind her. A pair of footman and the carriage driver sat on the outside with a company of 10 guards riding on all sides for her protection.   
  
Her waving faltered slightly as the carriage came to a slow stop. Turning her head, she realized they reached the entrance to the cathedral. Her fingers trembled and she tried her best not to start plucking at her bouquet. Instead she closed her eyes and took steady slow breaths to calm herself. In the darkness, an image of her mother and father appeared, standing side by side in the field near their home. They wore sweet smiles, waving to her before they walked arm-in-arm towards the house. Upon reaching the door, they turned to her once more. Her mother blew a kiss and her father bowed, both of them laughing with joy. And as the coachman opened the door, her ladies already there to assist with her gown, Ella found herself serene and calm.   
  
She stepped carefully down onto the pale blue carpet laid over the cobblestones, waving to the now raucously cheering crowds who craned and stretched to see her bridal finery. Flower petals rained down upon her, the snow flakes temporarily halting their descent as she stood before the long stone incline. Their voices faded in her ears as she began her ascent of the stairs towards the entrance of the cathedral.

* * *

“5 minutes,” Rowen warned, closing the double doors behind him with a knowing look.  
  
Kit barely registered his words but Ella thanked him. All Kit knew, all he wanted to know, stood before him. She turned back from speaking and their eyes met. Days worth of nervous fears of the wedding not happening disappeared the second he saw her walking up the aisle. But now, now their vows recited, the rings exchanged, prayers and hymns sung and the chaste press of lips later, he barely remembered his concerns.   
  
Royalty, nobility, the gentry -- all stood witness to what the public called ‘a fairy tale come true’. He once laughed at that title but after seeing her glide down the lengthy aisle to him, Kit needed to reign in the desire to pinch himself as if this were a dream. It seemed as such, even as the crowded streets roared with joyful noise when their carriage passed by. The snow held off long enough for them to ride comfortably in the open top carriage. Surrounded by blossoming flowers and silk buntings, Ella appeared even more regal and ethereal than ever before. All fell gladly to the power of her charms and smile, a gentle wave bringing laughter to all who witnessed it.  
  
 _And now, she is truly all mine,_ Kit thought with both satisfaction and awe. His hand cups her cheek tenderly, a smile growing on his face as she leans into his touch. Soft fingers trace his own as she rests her delicate palm against the back of his hand.   
  
“You are so beautiful,” he breathes. Her pale pink lips formed a smile but it came out more as a quick breath than a laugh. They moved in synchrony into another kiss, this one more lingering than the kiss before the alter. This one filled with just a hint of longing and promises. When they parted, he felt Ella’s lips tremble as a barely audible moan escaped.   
  
_She will be the death of me, this beautiful woman,_ a strained voice echoed in his mind. He gathered up his scattered wits and took up both of her hands in his own. Kissing each one, he then pointed to the wall beside them. “I have a gift for you,” he tells her, walking her over while still kissing her hands.  
  
“You have graced me with so much, I can barely find the words to thank you for all of it,” she replied as a blush rushed her pale cheeks. They kissed again, fluttering and brief, but now perfectly acceptable to any and all present. She turned and came to a stop, her free hand coming up to cover her mouth in surprise.  
  
Four portraits hung in ornate gold frames - their parents, right next to each other. She recognized her mother’s scene smile and father’s kind grin in their brilliant glory as if the paint sat fresh and still drying. The Queen and King smiled thoughtfully down at them almost as if they approved of the scene before them. Where once tears threatened at the site of her parents’ faces, she now felt at peace and loved. Kit told her that he wanted them to be remembered and cherished as much as his own parents. This gift of restoring their portraits and bringing them here...Ella continued to feel so blessed he thought of so much she did not.  
  
“They would have loved each other,” Ella sighed.   
  
“We will have to have your portrait done soon,” Kit reminded her.  
  
She chuckled sweetly. “But I do so hate being painted,” she teased.  
  
“Be kind,” he warned with a smile.  
  
“And have courage.”  
  
“And all will be well.”   
  
As he lead her towards the balcony doors, she fanned her fingers along the peak of her veil so to open it up. Ella’s veil trailed behind her like a pale line of cloud to rest over the flowers on her dress. Kit felt as if he guided some fairy princess of the sky towards the outside again.  
  
“Are you ready?”  
  
“For anything, as long as I’m with you,” he whispered.  
  
They moved towards the door and greeted the cheering city hand in hand.

* * *

Ella stood on the edge of the dance floor, moving about and greeting this advisor, this Lord, this noble and that. Many sought to wish her well directly with deep bows and sweet words. Those who desired new alliances, positions in court, to find themselves in better standing after their alliances with the Grand Duke went sour -- so many eager to wish her better and best for their own purposes.   
  
Princes and Princesses dipped their heads respectfully, none fulling intending to bow until she is truly crowned as Queen of Aldany. But given the events witnessed by them all, they recognized her as soon to be their titled superior. While many of them remained unmarried, she stood to potentially carry an heir in her belly by morning. In three days time, the crown would formally be placed on her head. For the forlorn ladies who sought the then-Prince’s hand, they reluctantly conceded her victory in marriage and wished her well. Their own future heirs may even call Ella’s children husband or wife.  
  
Ella brushed it all aside, her mind much too taken with the length and activity of the day. The bustled skirt of her wedding gown swayed back and forth almost to the rhythm of the music as she walked the very edge of the crowd. The loud beat and thrumming pulse of lively tunes celebrating their marriage kept the majority on the dance floor while the rest indulged in libations.   
  
A sudden tight grip and sharp tug on her hand caused her to give a short gasp. She stumbled slightly but recovered upon meeting Kit’s blue eyes, playful and sweet. They both smiled brightly as he guided her out behind low hanging drapery and onto a small balcony. Well trimmed hedges curved over the balcony and blocked the majority of the garden from viewing it directly.  
  
Obviously, Kit knew exactly what to do and where to go.  
  
“My dear husband,” she whispered, the title still unfamiliar but wonderful and exciting.  
  
“My beautiful and darling wife,” he responded before drawing her into the warm circle of his arms. “My Ella,” he sighed before pressing hot kisses to her mouth, sweeping away what breath remained in her body. Their bodies slid into that incredible and mysteriously perfect position where they fit just so against each other. Hands moved differently this time, now with a sense of belonging and ownership. They vowed themselves to each other, in heart, in mind, and in body. Giddy lust brought them to take just a few moments alone and away from the crowds.  
  
Snowflakes wisped about on the breeze, a glittery touch to the dark night sky.  
  
Minutes passed, neither knew how many, before a sharp rap on the door frame shocked them both back to attention. Lord Rowen stood with his eyes carefully trained to the floor. Kit and Ella took quick (and practiced) stock of themselves and each other before he called to his advisor to come before them.  
  
“Your majesties, it is nearly 10 o’clock. Your lordship asked me to remind you of the time so that we could--”  
  
“Yes!” Kit burst out excitedly. “Yes, I almost forgot and I thank you so much for reminding me.” Rowen bowed and continued his ongoing effort not to find the young King’s behaviors so amusing. Kit spun to Ella and took up her hand, kissing her delicate finger tips before pressing her palm to his cheek. “One last act, a tradition older than this palace.”  
  
“What is it?” she asked curiously. Nothing else beyond retiring to their quarters came to mind.  
  
“In ancient times, they called it the ‘passage de la vie’ or the ‘passage of life’,” he explained, pressing a soft kiss to her palm. “The entire court will line either side of the hall and as we pass, they toss these white flower petals about to...well, to...” Kit never knew himself to stutter as much as when he stood with her. “To wish us well,” he finished, the bluntness of what exactly it meant causing him to blush. He barely kept himself together after the wedding as desire clutched him tight with each faint touch of her skin.  
  
“Orange blossoms,” she said, drawing his attention back from distracting thoughts. Ella tugged slightly at his jacket and made minute adjustments to the lapel and buttons. “I’ve heard of this. Orange blossom petals are tossed about to wish for...a fruitful coupling.” Flaming red rushed up her own cheeks but she continued to fidget with his clothes.   
  
She refrained from telling him about the lotus flowers scattered about her rooms this morning or the pussy willow branches that stood prominently within the large floral arrangements by the entrance to the King’s chambers. All ancient and superstitious tokens to encourage the conception and birth of a health child. Her mother told her of such things before and women joked about it whenever someone married.  
  
When their gaze met once more, Ella felt her mouth run dry at the brilliant and burning blue eyes that seemed to devoir her where she stood. Suddenly, the corset of her gown felt far too tight and confining.   
  
Another hard, hot kiss captured the moan that escaped her before they broke apart breathlessly.   
  
“Shall we then?” he asked, his fingers rubbing sensual circles at the base of her neck. At her nod, he took up her arm in his. Their steps fell into pace together and the re-entered the ballroom, composed and regal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY THIS TOO SO LONG.
> 
> It's been a CRAZY several weeks and I thank you for your patience. I'm working on the next chapter now and trying my damnedest to get it out before I go away this weekend. I can't promise it but I will try.
> 
> The next up is the wedding night so....yeah...check that rating, kids!
> 
> Also, thank you for the insanely sweet and lovely messages of love and support. You make my heart so full!


	13. Love, In Every Form

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding night.  
> The cause for the rating change.

With a soft whisper of cloth on cloth, Ella watched as her handmaidens covered the last part of her wedding dress with a protective material. Tonight the laundresses will take it to be pressed once more before being placed in the chest where it would rest until needed or desired again. It gave her some mild sadness to know the beautiful gown might never see light again. Yet it served its purpose beautifully with many already planning to create similar designs for other brides.

Turning back to the long mirror, she studied herself silently in the long gilded mirror. After removing the veil, jewels, and gown, her ladies assisted to change her into a frost white negligé made of the softest linen and adorned with silver stars and blue birds. They laced her up in a new corset with identical embroidery, not as tightly as before but enough to give her support and lift her breasts higher.

Her women washed her feet in warmed rose water. A fresh pair of white silk stockings with pale blue ribbons to tie them up came next while another lady removed the pins and combs from her hair. A long day being twisted and bound turned her usual waves into thick barrel curls that lay perfectly against her neck and shoulders. One lady gently dabbed her neck and wrists with a sweet floral perfume while another applied a pale pink gloss to her lips.

Barely any of them spoke, the excited and nervous energy of the room giving way only to the occasional sigh or soft giggle. When Ella met any of their eyes, she received nothing but smiles and the occasional wink. Louisa and Dayaa placed gentle hands on her shoulders, arms, and back, soothing her without much fanfare.

Ella just kept reminding herself to breathe.

The doors opened and the small crowd of women turned to watch as two female servants brought in wooden tray with material laying in it. Placing it on the table, they bowed respectfully. “Your majesty,” one of them began, “The King sends you his compliments and wishes to present you with a gift of warmth and home.” They moved with a near practiced synchronicity to untie a thick blue ribbon before lifting the material up and away from the tray.

Thick porcelain white material tumbled down to reveal a long dressing robe. Creamy fur lined the neck and collar, running down to form a thick v-shape that stopped at the belted waistline. Similar fur trimmed the long sleeves where thin black ribbons tied back to hold up the top of the sleeve opening.

The hand she unconsciously placed over her mouth moved to beckon them forward. She touched the collar, watching as the fur curled affectionately about her fingers. It appeared to be made of a thick silk velvet, warm and protective against the drafts and winter winds. With a nod, her ladies helped her to don it. Despite the promise of heat, she initially shivered as it settled about her shoulders and form.

One glance at the mirror and she knew nothing else needed to be done. She now stood ready to cross the hallway and enter the King’s chambers.  
  
And her heart barely knew whether to leap from her chest or stop working entirely.  
  
Stepping down off the dressing stool, she grasped Louisa’s hand, feeling less shaky as the woman squeezed back in reassurance. Ella managed faint but giddy laugh that grew into a smile as the women joined her briefly. Dayaa appeared before her and as Louisa reluctantly let go of her hand, the two women knelt before her to apply her slippers. Her Ladies grinned and gave her approving looks when they realized that instead of the matching white slippers for her nightwear, she put on her glass slippers.  
  
“Like a fairy tale,” one of them whispered. And as they took their places walking behind her, Ella whole-heartedly agreed.

* * *

Having aired the room completely earlier in the day, a roaring fire now kept the colder night air well at bay. Golden glass globes prevented the candles in the room from being too bright while the shadows fought to stay present. The dark blue comforter turned the massive bed into a deep ocean where the crest of the royal family floated in the middle. Crystal bowls of cut flowers rested on the fireplace mantle, the water within reflecting all sources of light as if dancing through their forms.  
  
Thick double doors opened into the chamber, the faint clicking echo of glass slippers against marble now muted against plush carpeting. Ella’s small entourage helped to quickly arrange the flowing length of her robe into a creamy pool around her form. A few strands of hair adjusted, one last dab of gloss, and the whole paused. With a nervous smile, she nodded her silent thanks. They bowed with whispers of luck and hope on their tongues before departing the room, leaving her alone to await the arrival of the king.  
  
After a few moments of anxious stillness, she decided to study her surroundings. The King’s quarters after tonight would be known as the Royal Quarters or Their Majesties’ Quarters. And although she took some meals and tea in the larger sitting area, this marked her first time in the formal bedroom.  
  
Her hands brushed over the bed’s soft covers, traced absent shapes into the wooden headboard and fingered the tassels of the pillows. She took in the large paintings, an ornate mirror, the many vases filled with flowers and greenery. Beautiful chairs and a small table to one side, a large bench at the base of the bed, small ornaments scattered about with different meanings and uses.

When she circled the room and reached the window, she found herself drawn to the pale light coming in. Gently parting the thick drapery, she blinked as bright moonlight washed over her. It fought through cracks in the thick clouds that continued to disperse snow across the land. Beyond the half moon, several bright stars twinkled briefly, not as strong to fight against the weather. The earth shimmered with an ethereal winter beauty, trees swaying in the wind, white clumps shaking loose from the branches. Her fingers tightened around the fabric she still held and she closed her eyes in a silent prayer.  
  
_Will I be enough? He could have chosen any other women, some more feminine, more beautiful than I. Please, let me be enough._ She worried her bottom lip before releasing a sigh. _Let me be the wife he needs, in this bed, in this marriage. Let me be the Queen he desires._  
  
A warm press against her shoulders made her jump slightly before familiar hands slid down her arms and around her waist. Though her fear abated, her stomach began to twist anew. Her husband finally arrived to their rooms. And they were alone.

* * *

Kit stepped closer, drawing her into the circle of his arms with a gentle kiss to her neck before resting his mouth against her shoulder. When he initially entered the room, quietly and through a side door, the sight of her wandering about, the long dressing gown trailing behind her, he refused to break into her apparent deep thoughts. He watched with adoring eyes as she touched this and that, inspecting the bedroom that belonged to them as King and Queen.  
  
As she parted the curtains, he felt his heart nearly stop. Pale moonlight made her look almost translucent, even more ethereal and fantastic. Every inch the fairy tale woman from the fairy tale day of the fairy tale wedding. When her dress shifted, the light bounced off her glass slippers and Kit felt the sudden urge to reach out and touch her. This woman who disappeared in such a wave of mystery before -- he needed to hold her. Keep her close. His beautiful wife, in his arms, tight and secure.  
  
She leaned into his hold, a most delicate sigh escaping her lips. His eyes roved over her reflection in the mirror as his hands moved over her waist and to her upper thighs. When he gently squeezed her hips, he watched hungrily as her eyes fluttered shut and she pursed her lips tightly. All at once, the reflection of her became unsatisfactory and he stepped back, pulling her with him while guiding her to turn around.  


When her eyes met his, he watched the slight flush of her cheeks turn into a dark stain in the low light. She worried her bottom lip as her hands slid up his arms before resting behind his neck. Drawing her in close, he nipped at that lip still pressed beneath her teeth, catching it between his own when she gasped. A shiver shot down his spine as her nails traced paths up his neck and into his hair. He deepened the kiss, determined to map the contours of her lips and mouth into his memory.  
  
At last, he pulled back enough to look her over. Her chest heaved against the tight corset, breasts straining as she tried to catch her breath. The flush lighting up her cheeks now complimented the dark pink of her softly swollen lips. Low candlelight turned her eyes into glittering jewels, burning with a deep fiery light. And Kit knew himself to be a greedy man when all he desired was to keep that light for himself.  
  
Walking backward, he lead her until he sat in a nearby chair. His arm wrapped around her waist and drew her down onto his lap, legs across his. They resumed their kissing, lips taking familiar and new paths across exposed skin. She tugged collar wider before nipping at his shoulder while he placed dragging kisses across her lifted cleavage. A wandering hand tugged the hem of her nightgown up, exposing the skin beyond the edge of her silk stockings. A previously undiscovered area that drew his gaze momentarily as Ella continued her ministrations to his neck and shoulder.

Pale skin, a creamy white even in the low candlelight, greeted his eyes, peaking up from beyond white stockings tied with blue silk ribbons. These patches of untouched and undiscovered patches of skin drew a shudder from him. Or Ella caused that reaction as she began to kiss the front of his throat. Turning his head, he found his lips perfectly positioned at her breasts and quickly took to sucking at the tops of them as they continued to press desperately against the thick boning. As he savored the taste of her skin, and the incredible whimpering mewls she responded with, his fingers began the process of untying her stockings. A few tugs at the ribbons loosed them but the flash of her glass slippers caught his attention and he decided on a change in tactics.  
  
“Ella,” he whispered, kissing her lips once more before guiding her to stand briefly before sitting in the chair while he knelt before her. Confusion darted across her brow briefly before he moved to take off her shoes. Then she wore an expression of heated wonder. One shoe then the other came off, Kit placing them beside the chair but out of the way. He watched as she sank slightly in the chair, her bottom sliding off the edge of the seat. She pressed the back of two fingertips to her lips as she tried steady her breathing. A valiant effort quickly lost when he slid up next to her right thigh and placed a kiss on the newly exposed skin.  
  
A gentle, airy kiss he placed to each inch of leg he bared as he pulled off the first stocking. He moved down the side of her, watching her twist slight in the chair as he went. When he reached her ankle, he lifted her leg to kiss the inside then top of her foot. The material fluttered briefly in the air as he tossed it away.  
  
Despite the hard corset, Ella now slouched in the chair, head back as she continued to fight for air. She whispered his name, groaning when her wandering hand met his cheek and he kissed her palm. And a shocked moan escaped almost immediately after as Kit parted her legs and placed a kiss on the inside of her right thigh. His intent eyes met her darkened ones as he pressed his lips to the milky skin, slowly rolling the silk away to expose more of it. Fingertips tracing random patterns drew stuttering sighs as she shifted both towards and away from him.  
  
At last, her legs lay exposed before him, miles of skin and muscle that he intended to learn every inch of. He took in the image before him: her body slid down to where only the barest part of her bottom rested on the very edge of the seat; her chest rising and falling in desperate grabs for air; long golden hair draped over the back of the chair also twisting over her shoulders. Her negligé slightly hung down between her parted thighs, that part of her still covered, still secret to his sight. Dusky blush stained her face, neck, and chest as soft mewling noises escaped her mouth. Her delicately tapered fingers ran over his own hand that rested on the top of her thigh. When her head lolled to the side, her eyes hazy and unfocused but watching him intently.  


She appeared the image, the very living, real definition of desire.  
  
Lacing their fingers together, he placed one final kiss to the inside of her knee before tugging her to rise up from reclining. He rose up to kneeling as she sat upright, his free hand keeping her stable as she swayed slightly. Their lips met in brief but firm kisses that allowed them to catch their breath with the heat still roiling beneath their skin. He guided her to stand again, pulling her into a tight embrace and continuing their kiss.  
  
The pair of thick dressing gowns dropped to the floor in thick folds. A faint tug at her back barely registered until several tugs later, she felt the decreasing pressure of the corset around her torso. All at once, anxiety rushed over her causing her  grip to intensify on his arms. Her heart rate shot up and she felt herself unable to move. Though she wore a chemise beneath this particular garment, she couldn’t fight down the terrible fear running through her.  
  
“Ella,” Kit whispered, half statement, half question. His fingers stilled at her back and he leaned back better meet her eyes. A harsh tremble passed over her body and Kit ran soothing hands over her back and shoulders. “Ella?”  
  
“I’m...I’m sorry,” she stuttered, her grip still tight in the shirt around his shoulders. “I’m sorry.” Her voice sank to a bare whisper and she pressed her face into his shoulder to hide. Warmth, faint sweat, and the distinct masculine smell that rested upon his skin. His breath floated across her neck as he in turn rested against her.  
  
Flitting memories of their times together, hands, lips, voices, and bodies all melding into one long feverish dream. It felt like promises they made and now, here, as anxiety riddles away her boldness, it feels as if those promises would be broken. _Will I be enough? Will I be what he wants? What he desires? What if I am awful? What if I do something wrong? I don’t know. I don’t know anything about this!_ All the new and terrible emotions, sensations helped very little in her unease. Her shaking limbs, the throbbing in between her legs, heart pounding and breath racing. _Where was this unease last night? When you wore less than this?_  
  
“There is nothing to apologize for,” he murmured, stressing the words as he pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “Nothing, Ella. Your happiness is my desire alone.” Tears edged out of her tightly closed eyelids but at his words, the ever soothing motion of his touch upon her, the familiar scent of him, her grip lessened. Turning her cheek to press against his shoulder, she drew several deep breaths and relaxed further against him.  
  
“Did you see...” Kit started to talk to her, his voice light and amused as he recalled people and events from the day. This Lord and that Lady. The colorful displays of material and odd selections of clothing for their wedding. How many champagne glasses they would have to rescue from the hedges in the gardens. Distracting them both momentarily in hopes of becoming more comfortable. Ella initially just nodded in response then began to talk, giving her opinion here and there. Tension eased, she further calmed and even giggling at his remarks.  
“I do feel for whatever creature’s plumage suffered for her hair piece. It looked ready to strike at a passerby,” he joked.  
  
“It was a bird. The whole bird that was on her head,” Ella clarified as she leaned back and mimicked putting such a thing in her hair. “Talons and everything, just right there.”  
  
Kit paused for a moment, remembering, then burst into an infectious laughter that swept Ella into her own laughing spell. “Did they shoot and stuff it just for the occasion? Or is this one she looked upon the wall and said, ‘Ah, yes! I have always wanted to wear this to court!’” He ran his fingers through her loose hair and gazed upon her smiling face. “Promise me you will never where a bird, half or whole, upon your head?”  
  
Ella pressed a hand over her heart, a mock vow to go with her exaggerated expression. “I so swear to never where a bird on my head, even if all the other ladies take it to fashion.”  
  
“Ah but you see, as Queen, they will look to you for what is in fashion and mimic whatever colors or styles you choose,” he explained, cradling her face in his hand. “May you decide to be kindly to the women of Aldany.” They both chuckled at mischievous expression on her face.  
  
“Lime green and peacock blue lace for all,” she teased which brought him back to laughter. “Large puffy sleeves and pearls everywhere.”  
  
“Well, we shall keep the seamstresses on their toes for a good while,” he responded.  
  
Their lips pressed together between laughs and within moments, the heat from earlier began to build again. Kit drew her bottom lip between his and bit down slightly on the plump flesh. It drew a new moan from Ella who in turned licked into his mouth, devouring any noise he made himself. Hands wandered once more with a boldness  familiar of nights before: teasing, cautious then greedy, passionate, and desperate.  
  
His fingers traced her lower back and twisted the ribbon of her corset lightly. She looked up to his questioning gaze. “May I?” he asked quietly. After a pause, the realization that he sought her permission for any further progression, she nodded slowly. As the kissed again with soft, fluttering motions of their lips, he began to undo her corset in earnest. At her mid back, the familiar aches of her torso adjusting to being without constant pressure came in tiny pings. Fingertips brushed along her spine and against the gown, darts of pleasure and shivers racing through her body, chasing the pain away.  
  
At last he reached the top and extending his one hand, pulled free the ribbon from the riveted holes. A few hand movements later, the corset thudded to the ground a short distance away and Kit dragged her into a tight embrace. The heat of his body combined with a rush of cool air against her chest loosed a gasp. For all of their explorations prior to this night, the feeling of her nearly bared breasts pressed against his body remained a new experience. Her hands tugged hurriedly at his shirt, untucking it from his breeches so she could feel his bare skin.  
  
The slide of the linen, the motion of their actions, the incredible heat from him -- Ella barely noticed the noises escaping her. Echoing moans and whispered half words she fought to form. Her worry remained but now faintly in the back of her mind. It barely stood a chance against the revelation of how wonderful Kit’s skin felt, supple and warm, nor how he appeared almost desperate when they both pulled it over his head to reveal his bared chest.  
  
Worry, it seemed, stood no chance against her husband’s desire for her happiness and their rebuilding passion.  
  
He took to worshiping her neck with lavish sweeps of his lips and tongue. Her hands traced the expanse of skin before her, wandering over his pectorals and down to his abdomen. She scraped her nails over the faint definition of his muscle, triggering his kisses to be more devouring, more hungry. Resting her hands on waistband of the breeches, she slowly traced the bared skin with feather like touches, around his back and then to the front. When she reached his belly and found the faint dusting of hair that disappeared down below the belt line, she allowed her curiosity from nights before to go forward.  
  
With a trembling touch, she pushed her fingers below the waist of his breeches. His actions stuttered as his breathing suddenly changed. Rapid little breaths turned to gulps of air as she dragged her nails from his hips to center again and unbuttoned the top two buttons. Reaching down into the open material, she touched his member causing him to gasp loudly. And when she wrapped her small hand around him, he fought the urge to throw them to the floor and have her right there.  
  
Instead, he grasped the wrist of her inquisitive hand and halted her exploration. When their eyes met, a brief flash of worry crossed her beautiful orbs before realization dawned upon her that he moved them to the bed and now guided her to lay down. Her legs naturally parted as he settled upon her and both groaned and gasped as he ground against her. Though still separated by material, so little stood between them that the sensation overwhelmed.  
  
They took up their familiar actions but now with so much more added upon them. No doors to hide behind, no hedges to duck through, no worry someone will discover them. The seemingly endless layers of formal coats and gowns now stripped away. Their hands found favorite places to hold and caress while they spoke a language of soft noises and desperately whispered exclamations. Ella felt as if she would burst from this feeling and knew more still waited for them both.

* * *

Kit pulled at the cloth of her dress, tugging it up, bunching it in his grip. He felt the warm skin of her thighs against his hands again and abandoned the material to take a firm hold. Guiding them apart further, he settled against her and nearly wept from how perfect it felt. For a moment, he simply kissed her and enjoyed being so perfectly cradled between her legs. When the heat of her body seeped through the cloth of his breeches, directly against his groin, a gasp of air escaped him. And with all the practice and ease of a man possessed, he removed his breeches and small clothes, kicking them off the side of the bed. The action took him away from her briefly and he met her curious and fiery gaze with one that he hoped showed nothing but his purest desire.  
  
Even in the dimming candlelight, the nearly sheer gown left nothing to his imagination beyond the ability to drive him mad. And make her into the very image of a wanton goddess in dire need of being ravished.  
  
Legs nearly fully exposed, white cloth gathered in hasty fist fulls at the top of her thighs, drawn taught over her belly and torso where her breasts strained against it. He could make out the changing color of her skin at the peaks where her nipples rose up against the night air. The neckline half on with one shoulder exposed, allowing her neck to appear so graceful as her head lay slightly angled away. Hair in loose ringlets, a golden halo against the dark material of the bed.  
  
When he lay against her once more, he brooked no reservation with the groan coming from him and set his mind to remove the last layer of clothing separating them: Ella’s negligé.  
  
Starting with a brief, fluttering press of their lips, he moved ever downward, pressing hot wet kisses to her cheek, chin, jaw, both sides of her neck, then collarbones. Upon reaching her breastbone, he paused only briefly to untie the delicate ribbon laced to keep the gown up before savoring the skin there as well. His hands cradled her body as he first ran his lips fleetingly over her breasts with the material in place, letting his hot breath warm the sensitive skin.  
  
The sounds coming from her nearly again caused him to abandon his current path especially as she began to shake in earnest, her hands gripping his shoulders as if to pull him closer. Instead, he gave into desire and pulled the gown at just above her navel. The sleeves slipped off her shoulders and down her arms; the neckline dragging ever downward until it rested against the top of her belly. Ella tossed her head to the side at the action, eyes tightly shut but mouth hanging slightly open as she panted quietly.  
  
Gown completely askew, most of her body revealed, Kit paused and burned the image of her like this forever into his mind. Even the longest, coldest nights in a battlefield would not shake this portrait of his beautiful wife. He moved over her again and let himself be lost to his desire to taste every inch of her skin.

* * *

Ella felt as if someone poured a raging bonfire into her belly that only grew in intensity with each passing motion and action. Her mind abandoned fear in favor of Kit’s hands, his lips, his body moving against her own. The sensation of linen being dragged against her skin and the cool air laying against her bared body served only to provide for intense reaction when Kit’s lips pressed against the peak of her breast. Once, twice, then he drew the nipple into his mouth and sucked causing her to gasp loudly. Her fingers moved up into his hair, raking through his thick curls and holding on.  
  
At the same time, one of his hands returned to her thigh and pushed the dress further up, up, up until the hem of the skirt rested at the low edge of her belly. When he moved from one breast to another, she felt not only his wet kiss but his fingers sliding with a barely present touch down to between her legs. Gasping breaths turned into a surprised moan as he traced down between her folds and found the spot that sent a terrible tremors to rack her entire form.  
  
She didn’t know how to react or what to do. His hand between her legs, lips blazing a wet trail of desperate kisses over her chest -- everything so new and so intense. She fleetingly remembered his voice from nights and days before, in times where she felt as if she would combust as they touched, and listened to his words: Breathe, Ella. She felt his fingers dip lower and press into that secret area she herself rarely touched. Her hips canted up and she felt more than her him moan.  
  
So she let go. And with that, the fear dissipated and she just followed the feelings building within her.  
  
A twisting sensation in her belly sank low and she loosed a deeper groan as her muscle began to tense in earnest. Lights danced across her eyes and she barely found strength to keep them open. His hands and lips continued to drive her further and further until if felt as if her stomach dropped out, a sensation pulsing up washing over her like a tidal wave. With only Kit holding her to the earth, she tilted her head back and cried out in pure ecstasy.

* * *

It came like the most carnal music to his ears. He watched her body tense, her back arching up, head thrown back to expose the full length of her delicate neck. A rush of blood flared over her skin as her mouth opened wide as she practically shouted. He felt the clenching of her body around his fingers and the wetness of her womanhood increase. Kit came to his wedding night no virgin but he swore nothing compared to Ella in the throws of passion. He wanted this, for her to know completion tonight. He feared causing her pain and wanted her to know even if not at this moment, in time, he would give her cause to cry out with just intercourse itself. He loved her more than even he understood and would spend his life worshiping at the altar of her body just to show her.  
  
The pressure in his groin became unbearable, his desire overriding any other need. Removing his fingers, he gripped her thighs with both hands and spread them wider. His lips pressed with hungry desperation against her own despite her mouth still hanging open. “Ella,” he whispered, practically whimpering as the wet heat of her womanhood pressed against his hardness. “Ella, please,” he asked, no, begged of her.  
  
Her eyes, glazed over and hazy, met his darkened gaze and she nodded tremulously. “Yes,” she breathed, “Yes, yes, yes.” Her voice trailed off as her arms wrapped about his shoulders, pulling him down completely upon her. Dragging her lips over his shoulder and neck, her hand ran up into the hair at the back of his head before she whispered, “I need you.”  
  
Later, Kit would swear no sweeter words ever existed. And that the sensation of sliding into Ella’s body brought the greatest physical joy he ever knew. All heat and pressure and wet and her arms and legs drawing tightly around him as her fell back once more with a cry. He paused but a moment, savoring this first time, before instinct took over and he moved against her in earnest.  
  
Short pained moans escaped her initially as he moved. But having reached completion before, it lasted only a few thrusts before she began to moan and pant in pleasure with him. She raked her nails down his spine, resting one hand against his lower spine while the other still held tight to his hair. He felt her hips begin to move against his and groaned even more into the silky skin of her neck.  
  
A chorus of panting, moaning, and small cries echoed against the high ceiling of the room, a crescendo as Kit started thrusting into her harder. He drew her legs up, the press of her knees now against his ribs and causing her voice to drop into lower, deeper moans at the change. Within moments, he found himself only able to hold tighter to her as he came, his thrusts harsh as he poured into her. He groaned her name then bit down on the tendon running up her neck. Her own cry faintly reached his ears as his pulse pounded a punishing beat within his head.  
  
As he came down, the instinctual thrusting of his hips slowing, he found himself nearly collapsed atop of Ella. Their chests rose and fell in tandem, their skin slick and hot from passionate exertion. He felt her hands then, slowly moving up and down his back, a soothing motion to appeared to calm them both as the charged air passed out from the room and peace settled about them.  
  
When he withdrew from her, a whimpering moan issued from her swollen lips and he kissed her, truly and completely kissed her. She responded immediately and took to his lips with energy he barely felt existed in him right now. They rolled onto their sides, bodies separated but pressed tightly together as the continued to kiss. When they broke at last, mostly for want of air, he spoke, lips brushing her own as they remained so close. “I love you,” he whispered. She pulled back enough to meet his eyes. Despite the haze in both of their gazes, a perfect clarity sparked between him. Leaning forward, touching their noses, he repeated in a firmer voice, “I love you, Ella. My beautiful Ella. My beautiful Queen.”  
  
“And I love you, my wonderful Kit. My wonderful king,” she whispered back with a soft smile. The same smile she gave him the first time they met. The one that caused him to stumble and fall completely and incandescently in love with her.  
  
He kissed her again and pulled her so close, as if to meld them together so they never went without each other ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .........  
> .........  
>  Was it good for you too?
> 
> XD


	14. Blissfully Unaware

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A morning after.

The wind picked up during the night, whipping bands of powdery snow about and covering up everything cleared for the wedding. Branches of the mighty pines hung low and heavy with the wintery weight. What animals still roamed in the early winter now took shelter in caves and under the protection of tree branches. From the palace to the city to the docks, most folk woke up early to find themselves already going back to bed; very little can be achieved when one could not see an inch in front of them. Thick porcelain gray clouds masked the sun and sky with promises of bitter air and more precipitation.

And despite the wind occasionally rattling one of the nearby windows, Kit found himself sincerely oblivious to all around him. His fingers ran over the fur trim of his dressing robe, relishing the soft warmth it provided. Instead, he lounged back in his chair and continued his fascinated study with the scene before him. The way silks and velvets shifted and curled, clinging to delicate curves and alabaster skin, almost as if drawn to that flesh. Nearly the same compulsion as himself this morning...

* * *

 

At some point in the night, he woke briefly to a motion next to him. Barely cracking his eyes, he witnessed the white neglige being tossed off the side of the bed before the mass of blissful warmth and silky skin curled into his hold completely once more. His fuzzy mind conjured up vague images of passion and in that moment, he simply increased his embrace and held tightly to the woman in his arms.

Morning came more fully upon the softly padding heels of one of his servants quietly restarting the fire and fetching up the scattered clothing before exiting just as silently as they came. He rubbed his face against the shoulder of that blessed body in his hold and slowly blinked the remnants of sleep from his eyes. Once cleared, he soaked in the sight the wedding night, their first night together, provided. The creamy acreage of her shoulders, neck, and back immediately came to view. Tangled golden curls wrapped tightly around her head and disappeared between the pillow and her cheek. Lifting the sheet slightly, he beheld their legs tangled together, feet against skin here and there. A quick flex of fingers revealed his hand, the arm currently pressed between the downy mattress and the beautiful warm body of his wife, rested against her breast bone. Trailing his fingertips down, he traced a line to her navel and circled it absently while dappling faint kisses from her neck to the curve of her shoulder.

The dim light of a snowy dawn painted the room in a porcelain gray, the color muting the brilliance of the furnishings and even the faint sounds that began to escape his wife’s lips. Caught up in even more discovery by daylight, Kit barely noticed her waking until she pressed back into him. He sucked in a short breath then turned his current kiss into a gentle bite on her shoulder. Skin slid against skin as she turned onto her back, his hand resting against her belly while he laid pressed against her side. Her sleepy gaze provided him with little insight as to her thoughts.

A few moments passed in silence, her eyes lazily taking in him, her, the two of them together. Kit gave in to his desire and moved his free hand up to comb through the mass of golden curls creating a halo around her head. Her eyes drifted shut with a soft moan, turning on her side to press her face into space between his neck and shoulder. Slipping her arm around his waist, she pulled closer and he felt her nose brushing against the pulse point in his neck. He continued to brush out her hair with his fingers as she ran her hands over his lower back.

“I thought I was still dreaming,” her voice came, quiet with a faint hoarseness. “I woke to you and believed that I still dreamed. The gown, the wedding, the two of us together, in this bed...” She trailed off, pressing a kiss to his throat. “This is real?” she questioned so faintly he strained to hear.

“All of it,” he whispered back, touching her chin so she would look up. He brushed his knuckles across her cheek before cupping her jaw. “All is real. All of it happened.” One kiss, two, then three to her swollen lips. “And you can remember it, recall it, and relive it as when as you desire.” His thumb traced her lips slowly. “As often as you desire.”

A fiery light sparked up in her eyes as a sensual smile in pale pink drew across her face, damn near slaying him where he lay. A flush of red raced up her skin from chest to cheeks as she took the digit into between her lips, bit down then sucked on it before letting it slide back out. What remained of the bedding still on the bed now fluttered to the floor. The fire nearby provided only ambient light compared to the heat between them. Hands traced lines and letters, each of them writing their names on the other’s skin. Feet scrambled for purchase as toes dug into the mattress or flesh, their perspiration causing them to slide.

They swallowed up each other’s groans and cries; the few that escaped filling the room with drawn out carnal songs that tucked into even the darkest corners. They strained against each other with harsh thrusts and possessive lips. He felt her face press into his neck once more, breathing rapid and hard as her tried to form words. She pressed her lips to lobe of his ear and whispered in such a faint but desperate tone, “Kit...” before arching up into him, her body spasming as she gave a high pitched cry and sank her nails into his shoulders. That voice, his name on her lips, wrung a climax from him, leaving him feel drunk with a punch to the gut. He moaned wordlessly as he rutted against her through his release, her own soft gasps and groans filling him with satisfaction and pride.

When at last he lay still, a smug smile filled his face despite panting for air. Her arms now smoothed up and down his entire back, briefly pausing over his buttocks before going on. He made to move back but stopped as her embrace tightened briefly. “Wait,” she whispered, lips brushing his jaw as she pressed her thighs against his waist. Muscles still rippled and throbbed, the tremors of her climax still passing. “Not yet. Stay.” She tucked her head back into his shoulder space and kept him close. A flash of worry for his weight pressing her further into the mattress crossed his mind before he relaxed into her hold. Withdrawing from her drew a gasp and sigh and he slid down her body to rest his ear against where her heart still hammered within her chest. He barely fought the desire to sleep especially as her fingers carded through the dark, damp curls on his head. The soothing motion sent him back into a blissful, heavy sleep.

A few hours passed before the brighter whiteness of the wintry sky woke him entirely. Their position changed, he laying against her side rather than on top of her, and it allowed him to slowly slip out from her hold. The fire in the room continued to roar (wood stacked higher) and he saw the blanket and sheets gone from the floor, new ones folded on the chair nearest the fire to be warmed (he would find a way to thank his attendants for their discretion). With another lingering glance at his sleeping bride, he retrieved the covers and tucked them around her, dropping kisses on collarbone and shoulder before taking care of his own morning needs. Tradition stated the newly married Royal couple take no schedule for the two days after being wed; an old tradition to ensure the consummation of the union and increase the chances of a child being sired. If anything, it gave Kit and Ella time to adjust...and, of course, if was honest with himself, time to be alone.

Now, relaxed and dressed in his morning clothes, he sipped on warm mulled wine and watched as she slowly came awake. She twisted herself down into the warm material, hiding her face behind swaths of deep blue. Stretching fingertips scraped the headboard as delicate toes curled in the sheets. Relaxing against the pillows, he watched her rest for a moment before tugging away the blanket blocking her view. “Kit?” she asked quietly, a lingering rasp in her voice.

Quickly he rose from his chair, moving across the room and taking up a small bundle of material in his hands. “I am here,” he responded soothingly, taking a seat on the bedside. Ella gazed up at him, a flush of pale color to her cheeks. A color so becoming of her that he reached out and traced the stain. Her fingers wrapped about his hand, pressing it to her skin more fully, eyes fluttering shut as she sank back into the pillow. “How beautiful you are.”

Ella’s soft expression of peace and relaxation turned to deep blushing happiness and she looked upon him with a light in his eyes. She seemed almost embarrassed by his attention which to him just would not due. He rose from the bedside and shook out a pale blue gown along with the white robe, all aired, freshened, and warmed. Standing with a sweet smile on his face, he held up the morning dress. “It would be my honor to help dress you this morning, beautiful wife.” While the blush did not diminish, she outright grinned at those words and moved to sit on the bedside.

Sheet pressed to her naked form, she rose to standing. Her mass of golden curls provided a messy crown about her pale face. But her white-knuckle grip upon the cloth spoke volumes without words. Her anxious gaze darted everywhere but to him, focusing on the floor while biting her lip. Drawing in a shaky breath, she laughed with faint hysteria, “They say the light of day changes what we see,” she spoke faintly. “Does it change for you?” With a shaking hand, she released the sheet, allowing him a full view of her nude form.

Silence enveloped the room for a moment before she heard the sharp near desperate draw of breath from her husband. When she finally raised her eyes she found him, the King of Aldany, her Kit, admiring her with a look of awe and near worship. “If ever a man questioned his lucky lot in life, it is now as I see this most beautiful woman before me,” he barely rasped out. He stepped forward and drew her against him as he pressed a desperate and passionate kiss to her lips. They shared the taste of the wine still lingering on his tongue for what fell like forever or an instant. When they drew back, he wrapped her in the robe, discarding the blue gown. Given their morning so far, he felt it best to keep both of their clothes to the minimum. Especially as her hands began to roam the edges of his own robe.

They mumbled words against each other’s lips, between hot kisses. “The daylight...only makes...makes you...so much...I mean, just as...you are so...beautiful...,” he garbled in puffs of hot breath.

“And you...my, my...my love...you are...my handsome...king...,” she panted.

When he pulled back abruptly, she panted with puzzled expression. “You don’t think I’m beautiful?” he asked sadly. For a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. But his expression shifted from disappointed to mischievous and she guffawed before bursting out laughing. He chuckled and twisted her in his arms as if to keep her off balance. “If my bride does not think me beautiful, what shall I do? How will I go on in our relationship if she does not see me beautiful?” he bemoaned, pressing playful kisses into her neck.

“You are so beautiful! The most fairest in all the land!,” she giggled. The noise ruptured into a shriek as he pressed fingers into her sides and made her laugh harder. “I hope to be so beautiful as you!”

They stumbled back into the bed with playful hands and laughing kisses, blissful in their own world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to multiple personal and technological issues, this chapter is unfortunately very delayed and shorter than I expected. I am actively working on another chapter and hope to have it up within the next 2-3 weeks (I will be out of town this upcoming weekend and then to a convention in a following weekend). 
> 
> I cannot tell you enough how much your notes, messages, reviews have helped me and encouraged me to continue writing even when I doubted my own works. Thank you so much I hope this helped a little!


	15. Apologies and Updates

I'm very sorry this isn't an update at this time.

In the last 3-4 months, I have experienced several issues both psychological and medical that have taken up most of my attention.

I do have several partial chapters written and hope to post them in the near future. But given a very recent family medical issue that requires my direct attention, at this time, I will be unable to do so.

My hope is to update the story further as soon as I have time to sit down. But running to hospitals and doctors appointments make that very hard.

So thank you for all of the love and support and incredible messages.

I hope to bring more of Ella and Kit's wonderful love to you soon.

Sincerely,  
Bella


	16. The Raven's Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new friendship between women with connections to magic.
> 
> A new danger making it's presence known.
> 
> A new ally waiting in the wings.

Winter took solid hold over Aldany. The brief reprieve that started on their Majesties’ wedding day lasted...well, only briefly. By mid-March, the city took on the mythical appearance of an icy city. On rare days, sunlight poked brief spots in the thick white and grey clouds but with no true avail. From flurries to solid snows to squalls, as soon as the people dug out their homes, the skies provided a fresh coating of icy white. Only sparrows ventured out into the depths and drifts, chasing the swirling flakes and riding the winds with trilling songs.

 

The people of the kingdom went about their business as able. Bakeries filled the cold air with the delicious yeasty scent of fresh breads and rolls. The fisherman and dock workers chopped at ice, towing the small boats and ships that continued their ever constant movement from port to port. Fabric merchants sold bolts of thick velvets and wool to the tailors and seamstresses who worked around the clock to mend and repair older cloaks while running up coats and robes. 

 

Those not working huddled before their fireplaces and stoves, packed into their warmest rooms, sharing news and spinning tales to warm their minds and hearts as well as their bodies and bones. Matrons invited over dearest friends and their eligible children, match  making in the quiet of their parlors. Grandparents scolded the little ones, calling them in from their games in the snow, hanging dripping socks and stockings at the fireplace. Apprentices relished finishing up the last of their outdoor travels, warming their boots by the large kitchen fires. 

 

But as they stood at their doorways and near windows, the sounds of laughter carried faintly on the wind, down from tops of the hills and into the streets below, drawing smiles to all their faces.

 

* * *

 

Ella huffed from the exertion before coming to a stop, knee deep in the snow. She leaned forward, hands on her thighs, and took several deep cleansing breaths. Her lungs burned with exertion but exhilaration pumped through her veins. A bubble of laughter escaped her and she turned just as a gloved hand landed on her shoulder.

 

Pale blue eyes twinkled as the two of them laughed. She rose up to full height and took up the arm covered in pale peach materials and a thick rosy colored cloak. Together, they ascended to the top of the hill once more and met up with a trio of warmly dressed servants, one whom held a tray with goblets and metal pot. With skill and grace, he poured out steaming cups of wassail, offering them to the cheerful pair with a small bow. 

 

A few sips later, their breathing calmed and bodies warmed, they surveyed out upon the snowy land before them. “A great many tracks and paths cut,” Ella smiled, “Not a single ax swung today! Our scouting skills are soon to match those of the Royal Guard.”

 

“Oh but if they know that, we’ll be out in the woods every day finding them new trails to travel all the time! How horrible!,” her companion’s sweet voice bemoaned. “To not be stuck indoors with so many proclamations and orders and edicts! What would become of us?” The two young women broke out into peels of tinkling laughter once more, leaning into each other to keep steady. Goblets drained, they moved the short distance to the pair of servants who stood at the peak of the hill, struggling to hold off the grins on their faces.

 

Ella adjusted her gloves before taking up her wooden vessel and standing ready the top of the hill. Wind swept past her, playing with some of the freed strands of hair that snuck past her hood. Tucking them hastily back, she shivered in both anticipation and from a slight chill. But anticipation took over as her partner in play stood next to her, giddy and giggling. “Are you ready?” she gasped, her breath fogging on the air.

 

Ella smiled brightly. “Ready!”

 

They both placed their toboggans down on untouched snow, avoiding the several lines and paths already tracing the large hill. After a moment of arranging layers, skirts, cloaks, and boots, both sat ready for another down hill race. Two pairs of colorful gloves gripped tightly to the rope attached to the front of the sleighs. The two servants barely held back their amusement as they leaned forward, grabbing the back of the wooden boards and standing at the ready. “On your words, my ladies,” one of the called over a rush of wind.

 

Ella called back, “3...2...1...GO!”

 

And with solid pushes from both men, the two women descended the icy hill. A sliver of sunlight cut through the thickened clouds making the snow glitter as they streamed over it. Peels of laughter echoed as their cloaks and loose hair whipped about them. Despite the firm layers of snow, every divot and bump in the hill made them bounce. At the top of the hill, the three servants shook with quiet laughter as they howled and shouted on their way down.

 

Ella tugged her line slightly, pulling her towards the left, avoiding a dip from before that almost sent her tumbling. The snow drift at the base of the hill neared and she braced herself to feel that wonderful loss of gravity.At almost the same time, both of the sleds leapt off the peak of snow, giving them temporary flight until all at once, they bounced back to the surface of the earth, kicking up snow as the deeper snow slowed them to a halt. 

 

The sled turned out and Ella found herself sliding sideways, rolling through and throwing the frozen whiteness about her her. When finally she came to a halt, she lay for a moment to resume her normal breathing. Turning her head, she watched the brief golden light create rainbows and diamonds on the frozen surface of the land. Despite the near painful chilliness seeping in through her many layers, she let herself lay still and absorb this moment of silent peace. All of the rush and push of the last months faded away and she felt every inch of the changes of the last year. 

 

“Ella!” Her revere broken, she frowned at the distant call of her name. “Ella!” Now it became clearer, closer. “Ella!” She sat up, leaning on her elbows. A smile broke across her face at the sight before her. 

 

Peels of childish laughter rang out and brought forth the same kind from Ella. She threw up her hand and waved, calling out to her newest friend, “Aurora!”

 

With the hood fallen away, the long golden curls bounced free, the braid that once held back the tresses now gone. Her arms flailed about as she tried to run through the snow that came to just above her knees, kicking up sprays of flakes as she made her way over. As she reached Ella, she dropped down into the snow beside her, giggling and smiling. Aurora threaded her arm with Ella’s own, allowing them to keep each other sitting up and steady in the unsteady element surrounding them. Their smiles kept as they sat in the snow and leaned against each other. Moments of sweet, companionable silence passed before they spoke once more.

 

“Another race well won, my lady!” Ella crowed, raising up her free arm and shaking a fist in victory.

 

“To the victorious Princess and Queen; may we never grow tired of having such fun!” Aurora replied, raising up her arm in similar fashion.

 

“Yes,” another voice called out. Both of them turned with a jump to see two coming towards them, thick cloaks trimmed with snow-dusted fur. “And may their Majesties recount their victories without taking to bed with a cold.” Ella and Aurora glanced at each other before breaking out into another fit of giggles before making their way up to standing.

 

Ella gasped slightly as an arm encircled her waist, pulling her into a warm body despite the small layer of frosting on their cloaks. She smiled brightly up at her husband before kissing him soundly, wrapping her arms around his waist. Kit grinned against her lips before thoroughly kissing her back. As they broke apart, steam rising from their parted mouths, their foreheads touched and both closed their eyes. A moment passed in silence before giggling drew both of their attentions.

 

Prince Philip pressed a line of soft kisses to Princess Aurora’s jaw before pulling back to touch noses. Aurora blushed and grinned before grabbing him up in a rather fierce hold and kissing him as if he would vanish if she didn’t keep him close. Philip, for his part, wrapped his arms about her and lifted her from the ground briefly, eliciting another giggle from his betrothed. 

 

Taking advantage of her askew hood, Kit leaned down and nuzzled the sensitive skin behind Ella’s ear. A faint tremble passed through her and she held tight to his forearms. “I must wonder if we were so obvious before our wedding day,” he whispered, kissing her earlobe.

 

She let out an unladylike snort as her eyes fluttered shut. “We’re still so obvious. Or else the entire court must think we are working to be experts at hide-and-seek during the day.” A burst of laughter escaped Kit, the shaking of his chest making her laugh as well. Pulling back slightly, she gazed upon his smiling face before drawing him down into a prolonged kiss once more.

 

A high-spirited whinny broke the romantic spell over the two couples. All turned to watch as a pair of dark horses sent sprays of shimmering powder up into the air as they drew an open sleigh down the covered road. Shaking, tingling sounds of the bells attached to their harnesses danced in the air, providing the most delightful of sounds. The driver drew them to a halt a short distance away, the footman leaping from his perch to open the door in anticipation.

 

“Well, my dearest Majesties, Philip and I thought to take you on a ride through the countryside today, out to her Majesty’s family home for a night stay,” Kit explained, holding Ella tight to his side.

 

“Of course, that is, if you haven’t had your fill of sleigh rides for today,” Philip grinned. Aurora’s eyes grew wide before she drew down her intended’s face for another exuberant kiss. When she pulled back, she jumped excitedly, clapping her hands happily.

 

“I’ve never ridden in one of these!” she exclaimed. She took up his hands and lead a slightly stunned if not completely awestruck Philip over to the sleigh. 

 

As they made their way shortly behind them, Kit kissed her temple and murmured. “I must say, after looking at Philip’s face, I fear I must have looked the same way.”

 

“And what way is that?”

 

“Completely in love and utterly besotted,” he whispered, kissing her once more.

 

* * *

 

To Aurora, the sleigh ride provided an endless amount of joy. Two rows of seats faced forward, she and Philip in the front with Ella and Kit in the back. From their position, the landscape stretched out before them as glorious sprays of snow flew away from them like fountains and waterfalls. She leaned in closer to Philip, her arms wrapped about his waist. He drew up the thick furs and blankets, wrapping them about her shoulder before wrapping his arm about her beneath them. A simple glance at each other lead to a brief but passionate kiss. His lips were slightly chapped from the weather but still teased a soft moan from her. 

 

They settled into the cushion of their seat and watched the world pass by as they traveled along the tree lined avenue.

 

* * *

 

 

To Ella, the sleigh ride became an exercise in patience and felt like almost pure torture. Beneath the many layers of furs and blankets, her husband’s hands traced lines of fiery heat over her body. Having managed to pass through the many layers of her clothes, his fingers teased along the line of her bodice, dipping occasionally down to brush against her breasts. His wrapped his other arm around her, allowing his hand to gather part of her skirt up so he could grab ahold of her stocking covered thigh. Kit dragged his lips up the silken skin of her throat, tasting her and leaving a wet line that chilled with the wind whipping by. 

 

She turned her face down, pressing her mouth into his shoulder. The thick material of his cloak and the blanket muted the deep groan that escaped her. Rolling her head to the side, she pressed her cheek to his shoulder and whimpered. Her eyelids rolled back and she saw the soft grey porcelain sky, the clouds full and round with more snow. In that moment, she felt almost out of her own body and drifting among the sky. Heavenly, floating...then a sharp nip at her neck brought her right back, eyes clamping shut as she fought a moan.

 

“Kit,” her voice came breathless, barely audible. “Kit...” Her delicate fingers twined with his calloused ones and she pressed his hands flat to her bodice waist. There, they rose and fell with her rapid breathing as she desperately worked to calm herself. Curling bands of snow whipped across their faces as they travelled on, providing desperate relief for her heated body. 

 

Tilting her head down, she opened her eyes and felt a soft smile grace her lips. Squeezing her husband’s hands, she caught his eye and nodded towards the pair before them.

 

Even with furs and blankets drawn up around them tightly, the soon-to-be-sworn-in royal pair appeared so adoringly enraptured with each other. They watched as Philip adjusted just so, pulling Aurora a little closer, tucking her head more securely into his shoulder; light kisses to her crown before he settles once more. Ella felt him pull her closer in a tight embrace before shifting her his lap.

 

Ella sank back against the seat, curling into her husband’s arms as he followed the younger prince’s example of covering her up to her nose. The chill on her legs decreased as Kit adjusted them to once more cover her completely. She pressed kisses gently against his jaw, inducing a soft hum from him. As she curled into his side, she tilted her head and allowed her lips to brush against the underside of his chin as she whispered, “Tonight?”. 

 

A tremor ran through his body and he held her even tighter and pressed a slow kiss to her hair. Satisfied with his response, she kept her eyes on the winterscape before them and the whipping hair of the horses who carried their sleigh.

 

* * *

 

The newly repaired roof and mended walls allowed for the roaring fires going in almost all fireplaces to keep even the halls comfortably warm. Thick robes and gowns, along with fur-trimmed slippers held the cold at bay as the royal couples talked, dined, laughed, and enjoyed each other’s company. But with two hot meals and several rounds of warm mulled wine and brandies consumed, all four soon felt the tug of a cold day’s exhaustion and began their accent to their rooms.

 

Aurora stayed in Ella’s old room, decorated with newer pieces and wallpaper in the pale pinks that her mother once chose for her as a child. She grinned and drew Ella into sisterly hug with a thank you, praising both mother and daughter for their taste. Philip retired to what originally stood as a guest room before the Tremaine sisters invaded. Thankfully, with much time and skill, the staff removed all evidence of the girls’ presence including painting the luridly yellow with pink polka-dots over with a soothing green. After seeing him comfortable and in his room, Ella allowed herself to be guided towards the master bedroom. 

 

While Kit insisted on keeping as much of the house’s original pieces in place, in the end, Ella asked for her parents’ bed to be taken down. Several decades of her family used the bed, and expanded their family in it, but she felt after so long and so much heartache recently, she asked them to take it down and store it. A larger bed carved from pale wood with that glowed almost like honey in the light now rested in its place. Four posts carved with the same swirling designs as found in most of the royal furniture stood out against the half circle canopy of dark blue velvets that hung from the wall at the head of the bed. The heavy blankets and furs accented the soft blue wallpaper with small yellow fleur-de-lis patterned across it. White ceramic tiles painted with beautiful scenes of idyllic country life replaced the older ones around the fireplace which now roared with brilliant flames. 

 

Ella took in the beauty and serenity of the renovations and familiar surroundings, sighing both in contentment with the end result...as well as the also now familiar feeling of her husband’s hands untying the knot of her robe. With a faint touch of his fingers on her waist, she fell slightly forward and completely into his hold. A grateful hum emanated from her closed lips when those same fingers trailed up her spine, rubbing slightly along her spine and up to her neck.

 

“Mmmm...that feels so good,” she groaned, burying her face into his shoulder. “Don’t stop.”

 

“As my Queen commands,” he teased, kissing her temple as he continued. His fingers found a particular knot and rubbed until a faint pop occurred and she relaxed even further into his arms. Kit chuckled, “Shall I continue for a while?”

 

“You can continue forever,” she faintly moaned. Turning her head, she let her lips trace faintly over the skin of his neck. “But I know your hands talented in so many ways, my King.” A loud, delicate squeal escaped her as he spun them both, laying her flat on the bed and coming above her. Lips pressed together tightly, a few pressured breaths moving past creating a carnal symphony that echoed even into the papered corners of the room. Shaky moans grew louder as Ella felt the hem of her nightgown being moved higher and higher. Warm fingers traced invisible lines over the delicate and highly sensitive skin of her thighs. 

 

As the heat built up, sweat beading along hair lines and in palms, a series of solid knocks at their door caused them both to jump. 

 

“My King,” a familiar voice boomed beyond the solid wood frame. 

 

“Lord Rowan?,” Ella whispered in question, both Kit and herself wearing expressions of concern and confusion. Both removed themselves from their positions, wrapping up in their night robes. “Something must be wrong,” she worried, tying up her gown tightly and sliding her feet into her slippers. 

 

Kit moved to the door, opening it just slightly. “My lord?”

 

“Your majesty...majesties,” Rowan corrected. He stood in the door, still bound up in his thick cloaks and riding hat. Tugging off his gloves, he gestured as he bowed. “My King, I apologize sincerely for this intrusion. But we have...we have a problem.”

 

When she rose from the bedside, she took hold of her husband’s outstretched hand and stood at his side. “What is it?” she asked quietly, nerves beginning to jitter as she met his concerned if not fearful eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

Three dresses - a dusky rose morning gown with burgundy ribbons, a forest green riding gown trimmed in orange fox fur, a pale yellow dressing gown with golden buttons - lay across the chaise lounge in the parlor. One of the guards retrieved each one of them wearing thick black gloves and placed them in sheep skins to be bundled away into the large wooden trunk near the doorway. Rowen continued to speak, issuing orders to the several soldiers standing nearby.

 

Ella barely remembered when the dresses came out to be viewed let alone how she ended up sinking into her father’s favorite chair. Kit kept his hand pressed reassuringly between her shoulder blades, his voice a distant echo in her ears, hard to comprehend due to the rushing of her pulse in her head.

 

Poisoned.

 

All three dresses. A fine powder coating the lining of the bodice and along the skirts. Some kind of symbols scrawled in pale brown ink found along the hems of the gowns. One of the servants fell ill after the powder got on her arm, vomiting and dry heaving violently before the doctors determined the cause and got her the antidote. Red welts covered her arm, blisters in places, open and oozing at times. Rowen reported her recovery over the course of the next several weeks if no infections set it. All of the Queen’s dresses checked by woman whom apparently knows about ‘things of these manner’, found that the first dress and two others with the poison along the inside.

 

A warm, soft hand pressed against her forehead and cheeks before taking up her hand and guiding her away. Ella wanted to stay; she wanted to hear what Rowen knew, how this happened. Instead, she found herself back in her bedroom, Aurora fluttering about with quiet platitudes and kind gestures. Even though her voice seemed trapped behind several doors and rooms away, Ella made out her many questions about her comfort and feelings. She went to speak, to thank the younger woman for her concern. But the words fell apart.

 

And she made a pitiful cry, startling the anxious young woman before her, before leaning forward, head in her hands, tears tumbling fat and hot down her cheeks. Arms wrapped around her, rocking her back and forth, trying to pull her away from these terrible revelations.

 

Someone poisoned her gowns.

 

To poison her.

 

To kill her.

 

Someone wanted her to die.

 

The feeling of despair washed over and she wept harder, slipping down from Aurora’s arms and leaning into her lap. Her body shook with terrible tremors, vision blurry, breathing difficult. It felt as if jagged rocks and shards of ice ripping through her heart, causing the cold to pervade through the sliced flesh, freezing the blood that seemingly poured in the extra spaces in her chest. 

 

Delicate fingers brushed through her pale golden locks, soothing and reminding her of days so far past. She felt her head being briefly lifted before a soft pillow cushioned it. The hands continued their comforting passes along her head. Trying to slow the tears, she choked back sobs before a shushing noise broke through followed by the gentle strains of song, a lullaby.

 

“It’s alright, Ella. Cry if you need to. I’ll stay with you as long as you need,” she assured her as she continued to brush her hair out. And for as much as she cried before, she felt the emotions rushing out of her cracks of her still mending heart.

 

* * *

 

“What will you do?”

 

“What can I do?,” Kit groused, tossing back his drink. He strained to listen, the house now quieter as the extra guards settled in for the late night. The once faint sounds of weeping that earlier drifted from their bedroom went silent a few hours ago. A servant confirmed both of the royal ladies curled up in the thick blankets of the overlarge bed. He would not disturb either one now. “The dresses passed through several hands when they arrived, including her seamstress and no one else was poisoned. This happened recently. With all of the visitors from the wedding and during the season, it will be near impossible to track down who would have access to them.”

 

Philip sighed, sipping at his own cup. “And the poison? Is it so common place that it cannot be traced back to a source?”

 

“It’s common enough that it’s difficult to know exactly where it came from exactly. We can narrow it down to only certain areas but then it can be purchased in most of the darker corners of any kingdom.”

 

“And the symbols?” the younger prince asked quietly.

 

Kit handed him the page with the symbols copied onto it by one of the guards. “Not sure, no one knows the language.” Philip went silent, making Kit look over at him in question. “What is it?”

 

“I know these symbols.” That made the king sit up completely, eyes wide and alert. “I don’t know their...their meanings myself. But I do know they are a magic language. Something very old. The forests near the edge of the kingdom bear similar symbols. Old warnings against trespassers. I...Aurora...we know someone who know that language.”

 

“Can you contact them? Get them a message?” Kit asked, his blood pumping just a bit harder.

 

As Philip went to respond, a scratching noise at the window startled them both. The fluffy snow kicked up as black wings sent it flying through the air; the loud barking caw piercing the glass as a large raven took flight from the window sill and into the dark night sky.

 

“We will not need to send a message now,” Philip said quietly, causing Kit to turn back to see a soft smile on his face. “We’ll have an answer soon enough.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....I'm baaaaaack ;)
> 
> And this chapter is dedicated to my wonderful bestie, terraphim, whom never gave up on me continue this story and started calling me Isabella Cinderella in honor of how much I love the character.


	17. Une note de l'auteur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Touching base with all of you wonderful persons.

I have received so many wonderful notes and messages about this story and I continue to be extremely humbled with your words and encouragement.

 

Thank you so very much.

 

I am continuing this story and there will be future chapters. I am batch writing a few chapters of this in addition to three other pieces as well as two new fandoms. When the Muse strikes, she strikes hard. But it has been very hard as of late due to work responsibilities and increased stresses in daily life for me to sit down long enough to make words work beautifully for you. I am working actively on this story and don't want to leave anyone in suspense as to it's status.

 

I look forward to giving you more in 2017 and, as always, you make my heart glow with all of your love.

 

I feel entirely unworthy and humbly thank you for your attention and kindness.


	18. Hope for Humanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truly, courage and kindness can go very far.  
> Including bringing a stronger magic to their aide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter but I wanted to make introductions. I hope you like it.

Cardinals darted in and out of the snowy branches, shaking the branches and sending clumps of powdery snow fluttering to the ground. Their song, so cheerful and bright, matched their beautiful dance. As they passed out from the trees and made their way up towards the stone facing of the castle, the sun briefly shown through the finer parts of their feathers, a illuminated red streak through the sky.

Ella watched the birds with muted interest, her cheeks smarting from the cold air as she continued to sit on the stone bench. Her ladies in waiting stood just inside the large archway leading into the back of the palace from the gardens, standing around a roaring fire pit and leaning into each other to keep warm. Their gazes never stayed off their silent Queen for too long, all of them worrying and fretting about what to do.

Since her return from her family’s estate five days ago, the Queen seemed near lifeless. Though she wore a smile so kind and gracious to all that beheld it, her eyes appeared dull and closed off. Her words always sweet, courteous, and polite but those closest to her knew they sounded rehearsed and at times forced. She declined dancing at their most recent ball and stayed mostly to herself between the scheduled parts of her days. Only when the King came to her, kissing her cheek and holding her arm tightly as he escorted her from one thing to another, did she appear to relax even the slightest. But even that slightest amount did not bring back the Ella from before.

Having finished her lessons and taken tea with the ladies of the merchants, a gap of time appeared before dinner. They suggested the library or the artist’s rooms or even the gallery — Ella chose to go out of doors, into the cold, and sit on the terrace overlooking the frozen gardens. She told them to keep warm at the fire, that she would not go far, only just to the bench where her cloak and furs overtook her slim figure in waves and folds of dark blue velvet. But so much as she seemed cut off from her surroundings, her ears still picked up on her worried ladies’ words.

“Maybe we should seek out Princess Aurora?” one of them whispered.   
“She’s already left for the day, going down to see the ships being built with Prince Phillip,” another sighed. “I think even she is saddened by these horrid events.”

“Should we speak to the King about this? She can’t keep going like this, so…so saddened and fractured?” the next one asked, voice tinged with worry.

“He knows and he’s spoken to the doctors about it. He worries so for her. His gentleman’s servant said the King has spoken in brief about her crying in her sleep.”

“She barely eats anything either! How is she to continue this way, already so small? A gust of wind may take her!”

“I worry for her. She’s so kind and so sweet.”

“How could anyone do this to her? She’s done nothing wrong!”

_Nothing wrong. Nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing._

Ella rose abruptly, the powdery snow leaping up around her feet. The suddenness startled the women and they fell silent. Not looking their way, face partially covered by a thick lining of fur, she announced in a firm but small voice, “I am going for a walk. By myself”. She heard their soft murmurs of ‘yes your majesty’ as she passed, making her way down the mostly cleared path and towards the entrance of the hedges.

She took no notice of their concerned faces but felt their eyes on her shoulders until she rounded the bend and disappeared out of their line of sight.

 

* * *

 

Her feet lead her. God knew where she’d end up but Ella could barely keep herself upright for her pace. The gardeners shoveled away most of the snow and broke up any ice but the uneven gravel proved just as much a nuisance as the elements. She stumbled twice as her boots caught one thing or another. Catching herself on the hedge, she steadied herself then took off again. This time at a faster rate.

By the time she actually fell, she had been in an all out run. The snow on either side of the path whipped up along with her cloak edges. Her lungs burned with exertion, heart pounding in her chest, icy breaths ripping into her mouth and making her lips dry and crack and bleed. But she needed to run. She needed to move. To do something. But her boot tip found a slightly raised tree root and all of her motion sent her tumbling forward and into the side, face first in the snow. A surprised yelp escaped her, muted by the thick trees and hedges. The impact drove the air from her lungs and she choked for a moment due to the pain shooting through her knees and palms as she tried to catch herself.

Her gloved hands grew wet from the melting snow as she stay on her hands and knees, attempting to catch her breath and recover. But the thick tears that she kept pressed behind her eyes bubbled violently to the surface, falling down and making burning holes in the snow and ice.

Ella choked again before a sob escaped her mouth, echoing slightly in the part of the garden. As tears completely blocked her vision, she twisted to land on her bottom in the snow. Drawing up her bruised knees, she wrapped her arms around her dress and cloak as much as she could as she began to cry in earnest. Her body rocked back and forth as she tried desperately to hold herself together but failed. Waves of emotion - fear, anger, frustration, confusion, desperation - flooded out of her as she sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.

Pressing a bruised hand to her forehead, she barely noticed the stinging pain as she held her head. Her body shook from the force of the tears and the cold now slowly pervading as the snow melted against her dress and soaked the heavy velvet. But she couldn’t bring herself to care about it. Locking up her emotions for these days bore a heavy toll on her. And it frustrated her — she bore up more abuse, more pain before, for much longer. Her stepmother treated her as nothing more than trash for years, starving her, forcing her to live in the freezing cold attic, walk miles without proper shoes and cloak in the winter and bad weather. Why now is this so hard, so painful?

Ella shook her head, pressing further into her palm as she gasped and coughed on her sobs.

“It is in my experience that Queens should rarely if ever be on the ground and crying.”

The dark, slightly amused voice started Ella almost from her own body and she whipped her head up so fast her neck cramped. At first, she saw nothing, only the darkening skies with streaks of pink, orange, and yellow stretching out and away from the setting sun.

“And even more so should a Queen being targeted so…angrily and desperately…well that Queen should not be left to herself for too long,” the voice came again, echoing over her shoulder but in front of her at the same time.

“T-t-targeted?” Ella stuttered, scrubbing her eyes with her sleeve. “By whom?”

“Oh, that one is harder. But I can tell you whomever it is…”

A raven fluttered past her, startling her again as it cawed. It circled her once before coming to rest on a darkened part of the hedge.

No, not the hedge.

A shoulder. A shoulder belonging to a woman dressed head to toe in a gown of the darkest black. Bright eyes shone vividly in the failing light, highlighting the absolute starkness of her white skin and the sharpness of her cheeks and jaw. Upon her head, a pair of dark…horns? And large wings folded behind her. The staff in her left hand glowed slightly, a swirl of color that changed constantly.

The woman’s blood red lips turned from a condescending line into a friendlier smirk.

“But I have only known two Queens, so my experience is limited,” she allowed. Extending a pale hand towards Ella, she motioned for her to take it. “So let’s go with common courtesy.”

Ella watched her for a moment before accepting the help to stand. This mysterious woman pulled her up with barely a flicker of her muscles but very well could have thrown the small Queen across the garden with the strength in her hold. Ella found her footing and stepped more fully onto the path.”Thank you very much,” she whispered with a nod.

The bite of cold air against her wet clothes caused her shiver harshly as she got back to her feet and her hands wrapped over her arms in a poor attempt to keep warm. The woman eyed her for a moment, her gaze dancing over Ella’s much smaller form. With a wave of her hand, Ella felt a blast of warm air rush over her entire body, once again leaving her breathless. Once the heat passed, she stood momentarily stunned before realizing the chill of the air no longer rattled her. Patting her clothes, she found her once soaked clothes entirely dry and warm.

She met the stranger’s quietly aloof gaze with soft smile. “Thank you again.”

The woman hummed. “Aurora told me you were a kind woman,” she started, her words causing Ella’s eyebrows to go up to her hairline. “A good woman, kindly and sweet. Humble and grateful and helpful. She sees only the good in the world so I trusted her judgement. But you must understand how…difficult it is for me to believe that someone so much like Aurora existed elsewhere in this wretched world.” The woman walked past her, black gown creeping along behind her like a trailing ink stain on the white ground. “But so far,” she turned back to the young Queen, “I find myself trusting her judgement even more.” Tapping her staff on the ground, the light from it grew brighter, illuminating them in the dusk. “Tell me, little Queen,” she inquired, a sharp eyebrow quirking, “When you find those who wish such harm upon you, what do you intend to do? Will you have them imprisoned for life? Or simply have their heads cut off?”   
“Neither,” Ella exclaimed. “I want neither of those things.”

“Then what is it you wish to do with any information about these…aberrant events? What does it benefit you to know? If you do not wish to exact revenge?”

“I want to know why they are doing it. To know if a wrong has been done and if I can remedy it,” she responded quickly. Her voice firmed up as she continued, “I have no desire to see harm to these persons. I want them to stop trying to hurt me, to stop…trying to…kill me. No more than this. They may face the court but it is in the hands of the judges. That is the way of justice in our land. But I would beg for their lives even if they have tried to take mine. I want no blood shed, no revenge. I want answers.”

As the last small echoes of her voice died away, the woman took stock of her once more, eyes still aloof but a touch of curiosity at their edges. Finally, after several long moments of silence, a full smile broke across the stark white face, the woman’s eyes dancing. A sharp chin tiled up slightly as a low chuckle escaped her. “Well, well, well,” she intoned with a flash of teeth. “There is hope for humanity yet.”

Waving her staff around a circle, a flash of green light appeared before darting off over the ground, lighting the way along the garden path. “Come, Queen Ella,” she instructed. She waved her staff before them as she started walking. “We have only a short while before you will need to return to the palace. And we have much to discuss. These kinds of poisons and spells run much deeper than most know.”

Ella came up next to her on the walk, keeping pace silently as they walked towards another part of the gardens. She gave a long pause then spoke quietly, “Thank you.” The woman came to a stop and stared at her again. “For whatever information you impart to me. And for coming here to speak with me about it. I—I cannot live in fear. I have done so for a long time and cannot any more. So thank you for helping me to know what I face.”

The woman’s harsh features softened greatly as she studied Ella’s face. Her deep voice came just as quietly, “Truly humanity has hope for it. If women like you and Aurora exist in this world.” Ella dipped her head demurely and smiled once more. “But come. Your husband, the King, will seek you soon. And I’d rather not vex yet another king in so short a time.”

“I’m sorry, but I did not ask of your name and profession before?” Ella inquired.

“I am…well, Aurora will tell you that I am her fairy godmother. Much like your own. She calls me as such. But you, my kindly Queen, may call me by my name. Maleficent.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is based of the Angelina Jolie portrayal. Her voice has been bouncing around in my head the entire time I wrote Maleficent's dialogue. I hope to write more shortly but I will post as I am able.
> 
> To my faithful readers, thank you for your love and kindness and patience. I will be finishing this story (many chapters from now) and I hope to keep you with me to the end. You have all my love.
> 
> To my new readers, hello, how are you, and welcome.


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